A New Year
by moun-chan
Summary: Blanche has a ritual for every New Year's Eve - she must kiss someone at midnight to set the tone for the new year. When she's suddenly left alone with Dorothy, she makes a rushed decision that entails some difficult consequences for both of them. - Now complete!
1. January

"But I didn't get my New Year's kiss, and it's almost midnight!" Blanche yelled desperately at the empty night, before closing the door with a bang. "Darn it!"

Her latest date disaster had just stormed out at a few minutes to twelve because of some last minute purity concerns, and suddenly her sacred tradition was in danger – how was she going to start into the new year without a kiss?

With a sigh, she returned to the sofa where instead of her date, there was only Dorothy left, who – as usual – hadn't been able to get a date to begin with. Rose was out with Miles, and Sophia was at a party with some of her senior friends. Blanche sat down next to her best friend, moping.

"That didn't go too well now, did it?" commented Dorothy.

"Oh, what do you care, your tone for the next 365 days doesn't need to be set, it's always the same!"

"So's yours, honey. Why does it matter if you kiss someone now, we both know that in a few days' time you'll have someone new to ease your lonely nights."

Even though Blanche was looking at the TV, she could still hear how her friend rolled her eyes.

"You don't understand, Dorothy, I _have_ to kiss someone at midnight, or-"

Sooner than she thought, the television guy interrupted her and announced the countdown to midnight. Cheerful people counted down from ten and toasted with champagne, while Blanche pouted. Ten seconds later, the fireworks started and a thought crossed Blanche's mind – maybe everything was not lost yet.

She looked at her friend to her left, contemplating her as if she saw her for the first time that night. Dorothy seemed to feel her glance, and turned around slowly.

"Oh, what the hell," Blanche mumbled, and before Dorothy had a chance to react, the southern belle planted a gentle kiss on her lips. With surprise, she realized how soft Dorothy was, how different and yet how alike kissing her was to – well, kissing. Gently, her best friend started to respond, and although at first she was caught aback, after a second she gave in to the temptation. Maybe it was the alcohol, the spirit of the night, maybe just curiosity, but this kiss was the most intriguing one she'd had in a while, and she'd had quite a few. The tickling of Dorothy's long fingers as they combed through her hair, the softness of her cheek underneath Blanche's hand, the sweet moistness of her mouth…

Blanche finally withdrew with a sigh. As if she were waking up, all the other sensations came back, and the noise of the TV suddenly seemed deafening.

"Now, what kind of tone does that set for the year?" Dorothy asked, still not taking her eyes off Blanche or her hand off her knee.

"I – I'm not so sure. It was probably just really silly of me," Blanche said, trying to laugh it off. "Never mind."

Blanche felt relieved when Dorothy took her hand back after a tense silence, and directed her attention at the TV instead of insisting on the issue. She stayed at her side for a while, trying to enjoy the program and the rest of the night, but she just couldn't bring herself to like it. As soon as she felt it was inconspicuous, she excused herself and went to bed. But lying there alone in the dark didn't make it easier. She tried to fall asleep, but the impressions haunted her. She couldn't stop feeling the gentle caress of her friend's tongue against hers, hearing her soft sigh as she let go – and it all made her feel even madder at herself. Why had she done this? And even worse, why was she reacting like this? That had been only Dorothy, for God's sake, not exactly a dream of her sleepless nights.

Well, until tonight, she thought, as the clock turned to 2:30 AM and she was still wide awake. Normally, she would've gone to the kitchen in search of something edible, preferably cheesecake, but now she didn't even dare do that – what if Dorothy was up, too? No, she couldn't risk meeting her now. The others were bound to be home by now, too, although Rose might stay at her boyfriend's. Blanche flinched at the thought of the long holiday ahead – both the museum and the school were closed on January 1st, and she hadn't made any plans. She could only hope that by tomorrow she'd feel better. There was no way she would lose her best friend over this silly feeling, Blanche thought, and forced her eyes shut.

New Year's Day was everything but the usual, cozy and quiet holiday it used to be. Blanche got up late, had breakfast alone and only saw Dorothy briefly in the living room when she headed out for her last minute date with good ol' Mel Bushman. They said hello, Blanche had a little chit-chat fight with Sophia, and Dorothy shot a sarcastic comeback at one of Rose's terribly naïve remarks – still, the sour feeling in Blanche's gut hadn't disappeared at all, and when she looked at Dorothy, she suddenly seemed to look at a whole new woman. She'd lived with her for what, five years already? But since that kiss, she saw her friend with other eyes. The serious expression on her face no longer seemed as harsh, the long wide clothes no longer that hideous, the chocolate brown eyes seemed to have come alive in some magical way, and drew Blanche in with forces she herself usually applied to get some particularly desirable man to pay her the attention she deserved.

When the doorbell rang, Blanche rushed to open it, and with relief she let herself be embraced and taken out by the charming guy she'd known for so long she even had a key to his house. He took her out for lunch, a long stroll along the boardwalk afterwards, where they started talking about Miami Vice. Mel was passionate about it, but apparently not enough so to not notice Blanche's distraction.

"Blanche, darling, are you alright? Are you still mad about that Bahamas thing?", he asked, as they walked by an ice cream vendor and a few hung over tourists.

"Oh, don't be silly, of course not. I'm not mad about anything," she said, observing the seagulls that were fighting over a piece of cone somebody dropped on the pavement.

"But something's the matter with you today. Was it someone who cancelled on you today, so you had to call me?"

"Nobody cancelled on me today, honey, I just felt like seeing you. It's been a few months," Blanche said and emphasized by touching his arm playfully. She'd always been an excellent actress, and she wouldn't allow any more of those silly memories to ruin her date, even if it was only Mel. So she made an effort to chat and small talk, giggle and flirt just as usual, and even when they ended up at his place, as usual, she played by the rules.

It wasn't that she didn't enjoy it, she thought, as she was walking home. Mel knew how to please her, and the exchange was always mutual, better than many others, and it had been good to see him again. He'd even treated her to dinner, too. Now, it was late, and she'd decided to decline his offer for a taxi and walk the few blocks. She could use some more air.

As much as she'd enjoyed the time with ol' reliable, she couldn't stop thinking of Dorothy, or better, the issue, as she called it now. She tried to make sense of it all, as she observed the first stars appear in the yves-klein blue sky. The longer she thought about it, the more logical explanations she found – Dorothy probably hadn't been kissed by anyone in months, it wasn't that weird that she responded. And as for herself, well, it was just a silly tradition. She'd never kissed a woman before, and she most certainly never would again, she decided. Blanche Devereaux did not kiss women, and even _if_ she did, she'd pick someone reasonably attractive. Hypothetically, of course, meaning not ever. She nodded to herself, as she crossed the street and turned into Richmond Drive. From now on she would continue to live as if nothing had happened, because that's how it was, nothing had happened.

Dorothy decided to approach her on day 10 of the new year. Almost two weeks had passed, and Blanche had refused to even mention their kiss. Right on the next day, she'd practically run off with Mel Bushman, and since then she'd had at least three other lovers – those that Dorothy knew of. Blanche was acting normal, but it almost seemed a little too normal to Dorothy. She couldn't have missed how she'd kissed her back, and she couldn't think Dorothy didn't notice how she seemed to avoid being alone with her, even though she'd never let anything slip, said the same things, did the same things.

Now, at way past midnight, Dorothy was sitting on the sofa with a piece of anti-depressive chocolate cheesecake, a cup of tea and a book, waiting for her best friend to come home from her date. If she came alone, she might be able to talk to her, and considering it was her first date with that guy (Dorothy didn't even know his name), it wasn't very probable she'd bring him to spend the night, especially since Blanche knew pretty much every cheap hotel in greater Miami.

Oh, why was she even thinking about that? Dorothy finished her cake, and leaned back to continue with the adventures of Philip Marlowe for a while. In the peaceful silence, with nothing but the cool nightly air around her, she got lost for a while in the story she'd read many times. She'd turned quite a few pages by the time a sound outside startled her. She looked up and there was Blanche, stepping inside. Her mouth formed a little o when she saw Dorothy, who put her book aside.

"Hello Blanche."

The belle dropped her keys in her tiny red glitter purse and came a step closer. "Dorothy, what are _you_ doing up?"

"I was hoping we might talk."

"Can't it wait til tomorrow? I've had a long night."

"It's important. Why don't you sit down?"

Blanche sat down in the closest armchair, crossing her legs and bobbing her left foot up and down. "So, what is it?" Her eyes were directed at Dorothy in a curious glance.

"Oh come on, Blanche, you know exactly what this is."

"I do not, so spit it out or I'm goin' to bed."

"Are you just going to pretend it didn't happen? You could've at least talked to me." As Blanche kept looking with that same innocent expression, Dorothy rolled her eyes. "The goddamn kiss!", she hissed.

Blanche started to shift in her seat. "What about it?"

"If it meant as little to you as you're pretending, why are you so different? Ever since it happened, you don't talk to me, you hardly look at me, and you practically throw yourself at any man that crosses your path- what's the matter with you?"

"Nothing's the matter with me, Dorothy. It was just a silly kiss, it was nothing, and I don't know what you want from me!"

"I want you to be honest with me!"

Blanche just kept staring at her, arms crossed and lips pursed.

"Fine, then _I'll_ be honest with you!" Dorothy said, agitated but trying not to yell. "To me, it was not 'nothing', and you might have noticed, you know, cause I think the way I kissed back made that pretty clear. Now you might think it was because you're so devastatingly beautiful, and nobody could ever resist you, well, no, it's not. I could and I would've resisted if that was what I wanted, but I didn't, so you make your guess."

Blanche didn't even blink, she was frozen solid listening to her.

"You have no idea how much I wanted it, and how sure I was that I was never going to get it. Well, here's the twist: now I wished I had never got it. This treatment you're giving me is worse than anything before. After all this time, you still don't see how much you mean to me. Blanche, I'm in love with you, I've been for so long I can't even remember when I wasn't."

The southern belle had visible trouble maintaining her composure, and clutched to her purse to her chest as if it were some kind of shield. She finally cleared her throat.

"Dorothy, you know I don't swing that way, ever. I realize it must be tempting, being around someone as breath-taking as me all the time, and I probably shouldn't have kissed you just for the sake of that stupid tradition, considering how lonely you are, but-"

"What?"

"I guess I just wanted to do you a favor, see if I can set a better tone for your new year, but it seems it backfired."

"I'm not saying this because you kissed me – well, no, actually I am, because you made me think I had some kind of chance. Or did you just make out with me from sheer force of habit?!"

"I did _not_ make out with you. I might've got carried away, because I was tipsy and it was New Year's, but that's all. I don't know why you have to make such a fuss over this."

"Didn't you hear me? I said I was in love with you!"

"Keep your voice down!"

"I have been for ages, but of course, you're so self-centered, you didn't even notice!"

"What does it matter? I am not like you, and I never will be, so you better forget about it," Blanche said and uncrossed her legs. "So if that was all…"

"That's all you've got to say? I thought I was your best friend."

"And you are, honey, but… I just don't wanna hear any more about it, so it can stay that way."

Dorothy nodded, resigning. Blanche said a quick good night and disappeared to her room as fast as she could. Dorothy remained on the sofa for a while, shaking her head in disbelief of how bad it had gone. Slowly, the weight in her chest got heavier, until it was unbearable, and she felt that any moment now she would fall down into hell's abyss. How had she lead herself to think that Blanche, hypersexual, man-eating, petite, perfect Blanche could ever be interested in someone like her? Absent-mindedly, she picked up the dirty dishes and her book, leaving the first in the kitchen, and taking the latter with her as she dragged her tired body to bed.

Alone in her room, the disappointment and sadness of it all overwhelmed her, and instead of going to sleep, she spent the next hours crying into the pillow as quietly as she could. She should've known it would end like this, she had known from the start that falling for Blanche Deveraux was the most foolish thing she'd ever done, except maybe marrying Stanley. Now she'd received the just deserts for it. Over were the times of silent admiration, the tickling all over her when Blanche took her hand, or that kick of adrenaline when they hugged, hoping that she didn't notice, or maybe hoping that she did. Now it was all out in the open, and it was all ruined. Blanche hadn't even cared for her feelings, she'd put them off as some silly little confusion, when they were so much more. In the past ten days and nights, hardly a minute had passed in which Dorothy didn't remember some detail, some feeling, of that single moment of perfection she'd been granted, and even at night she couldn't get it out of her head. Where her dreams had featured Blanche before, they now focused exclusively on her, and everything about her. It made Dorothy feel like some lovesick teenager, when she should've been over that phase more than thirty years ago. But then again, Stanley had never been able to make her feel even a tenth of the emotional tornado Blanche unleashed in her. Right now, though, Dorothy wished her feelings were a little less destructive, so she was almost grateful when, god knows when, she was too tired even to cry, and with a headache and eyes sore from shedding too many tears she finally fell asleep.

A sudden touch on her arm startled Dorothy back into reality. It was Tuesday morning, and instead of finishing her coffee, she'd gotten lost in her thoughts again. Rose sat down next to her.

"Are you alright, Dorothy?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" she said as nicely as she could, and took a sip from her cup. Ew. It was all cold.

"You've been sitting here alone for so long I thought you'd fallen asleep."

"What time is it?" Dorothy asked, panicking. "I'm going to be late!"

"It's only 7:30, you were the first one up, again."

Dorothy shot an inquiring glance at her friend, who was already dressed for work. Instead of answering to the unspoken challenge, she got up and grabbed a cup of coffee for herself.

"You know you can talk to me if there's something wrong", she said, as she sat back down. "Is it because of your mother? I'm sure she didn't mean it when she said you look like Chev Parker."

"Thank you so much for reminding me of that, Rose. Just what I needed for a good start into this miserable day."

"Well, I'm sorry, but when I see that a friend of mine is sad, and you definitely are, I just want to help."

"I don't need your help," Dorothy snapped.

"Fine then, Miss baggy eyes, keep suffering on your own then," Rose replied, and proceeded to pout silently.

Dorothy got up, quickly rinsed out her cup, and left for her room to get ready and get going. With a sigh, she gathered her books and supplies, got changed, threw on some make up and left early for school.

She managed class better than she did interacting with her roommates these days, she thought with a little more sadness, when she'd finished for the day. It was only one o'clock, and she decided to treat herself to lunch at the _Habana_. She didn't usually like to eat out by herself, but going home seemed even less appealing, and she hadn't had their famous _arroz a la cubana_ in ages. It turned out to be rather enjoyable, even though frying a banana still seemed like a weird idea to her, and afterwards she took a walk in the sun that warmed and cheered her up a little even in January. She passed by the beach, where the tourists and the locals bathed and fought together, the seagulls yelled and everything was going as always.

After a while, on her way back, Dorothy stopped at the railing and looked out over the ocean. Its vast cobalt blue surface and the continuous roaring of its waves had a calming effect on her. She stayed there for a while, just as lost in her thoughts as she'd been that same morning, but in a much more peaceful way. She shouldn't be angry at herself, or at Blanche, anymore, she thought. Blanche was the way she was and nobody would ever change that. The same was true for Dorothy – she'd been through some tough times in her life, but she'd never let it get her down, and there was no reason to change that. If she'd gotten over being knocked up, having to marry that idiot and not being able to pursue the education career she'd always wanted, she'd easily get over Blanche, too. It wasn't even the first time something like this had happened to her, there'd been someone in college, some acquaintances on the way and even a colleague in school some time – she'd done it before and she'd do it again.


	2. February

It was one of these late January days, Blanche remembered, when the sun was just a tender caress on one's skin and the museum less crowded, that things had resumed their apparently normal course. She was reading some silly novel and having some lemonade on the lanai to relax after a long day at the museum, when Dorothy came home and surprised her not only by being in a pretty good mood, but also by talking to her like she'd done before 'the issue'. It was almost as if nothing had happened, she thought, and enjoyed the feeling she'd been missing for weeks, gossiping with her best friend about the people at the museum, laughing together about one of Sophia's latest stunts.

Later, long after sunset, Blanche still thought of the nice conversation, and of how happy it made her to see her friend feel better. She'd been more than her normal level of sulky and grumpy lately, causing her roommates to worry. Of course, Rose was the most sensitive one, and had been bringing up the topic most frequently with her, whereas Sophia resorted to her usual way of expressing concern, brazen comments and storytelling. But for Blanche, the situation was especially strenuous, as she was trying as hard as she could not to connect Dorothy's behavior to what had happened on New Year's. All the happier she was to see the recent change in her friend's mood.

The 31st of January was Dorothy's birthday, but being the least outgoing person Blanche had ever met except (funny example), there never was a big gathering quite apart from anything deserving of the term party. It was just the four of them, going out for dinner, to a nice, quiet place, and afterwards they automatically found themselves in the kitchen, savoring some delicious chocolate cheesecake for the occasion. As the slices disappeared, the conversation got naughtier, and soon they were back to their favorite topic. Blanche shared some of her more delicate adventures with some artist twins from Argentina, which were half made up, of course, but she'd never admit that – it was too much of a pleasure observing her friends' faces as they listened to the rather inventive use of a trapeze.

All in all, it was a pleasant day, and everything seemed to be going back to normal. As Blanche got ready for bed, she caught herself thinking of New Year's Eve again. She scolded her mind for returning to that bloody night once more. Wasn't everything resolved already? Dorothy seemed to have recovered from her –whatever that had been- , and Blanche, well, here she was, pretty and happy as ever, involved with a very eligible and handsome gentlemen who finally seemed to be worth the while for more than a few days, why was she doubting anything? She wasn't, she reminded herself. Everything was going perfectly. Valentine's was coming up, and she had her hopes on a romantic weekend trip with Robert. There was no reason at all to be lying here thinking, when she could already be enjoying her beauty sleep. She shook her head slightly and with determination she decided she would finally forget all about that stupid incident.

The first half of February went fantastic. She had an important exposition to prepare at the museum, now that the main season was getting closer, and her relationship with Robert was developing very positively as well. She went out with him several nights a week and it didn't get dull. He was a well-educated, successful lawyer, and on top of it he was great in bed. What more could she ask for? So on the eve of the 13th, after getting ready for hours, she strolled into the living room with her little suitcase like a queen about to be crowned. She could see her roommates' admiration as they examined her blue-white sailor outfit with the figure-hugging navy blue miniskirt and the white blouse that showed generous cleavage.

"Blanche, you look amazing!" Rose exclaimed. "Are you ready for your trip?"

"You bet I am!" Blanche said with a beaming smile. "I can't wait to get going! Robert is coming to pick me up any minute."

"I hope you packed some penicillin, too," Sophia remarked, looking up from her magazine.

Blanche just smiled at the old lady and let her get away with the comment.

"All I really need is sunscreen and a bikini," she said, winking. "Oh, this is going to be the best Valentine's Day in a long time. His yacht is amazing, and the weather will be perfect."

The doorbell rang. Blanche walked over, taking a deep breath to maximize her cleavage before opening the door.

"Hi Robert," she hushed, looking up into his brown eyes in her most seductive manner.

"Blanche, you look – you are breathtaking."

"Could you two keep it in your pants for a few more minutes?" Dorothy asked, and Blanche saw how she rolled her eyes at her boyfriend.

The southern belle scoffed. "Never mind her," she said lightheartedly, gently poking Robert's arm. "She's just grumpy because no one is going to take her out, like every year."

"Unlike you, I don't need a man to feel fulfilled, you know."

"Good, cause otherwise I guess you'd be even more insufferable," Sophia countered.

"Come on girls, let's not fight now!" Rose interfered, and stepped over to Blanche. "Have a wonderful trip, honey."

"Thanks, I'll see y'all Sunday!" said Blanche, and went for her suitcase.

"No, let me take that for you," Robert offered, and took the baggage.

As they left, Blanche already snuggled close to his side, inhaling the enticing and surely expensive perfume, while they made their way out of the door and to his Mercedes.

The next two days were blissful. On Robert's yacht, Blanche spent the day sunbathing, reading, having sex and in between took off for shore leave to eat in exclusive restaurants. Robert accompanied her in most of these activities, but even though he'd taken the time off, they were interrupted a few times by work-related calls.

Blanche was just on deck, in her little white bikini and her big sunglasses, staring into the Maya blue sky and watching the few tiny clouds drift by, when Robert came back from one of those calls. First she felt his shadow over her, then his lips on hers. His moustache tickled her, and when she giggled, he withdrew.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothin', honey. Are they done callin' you now?"

"I surely hope so…" He started kissing her again, his hands all over her.

"Again?" Blanche asked after a while, as Robert got more insisting. Instead of answering, he let his hand wander over her belly and further.

"Oh! Maybe we better take this below deck," Blanche hushed. "You _insatiable_ beast."

He growled playfully, before they rushed to the bedroom.

On Sunday night, she returned to Richmond Drive with a tan and an even bigger smile than she'd left with. Her outfit was a little less on point, but her roommates were busy in the kitchen anyway, so she sneaked to her room to leave her suitcase and fresh up before joining them for dinner. Over Sophia's homemade spaghetti, she bragged a little with her fabulous weekend and Robert's present – a diamond necklace.

"Oh wow, it's beautiful, Blanche!" Rose exclaimed. "That must have cost a fortune!"

"That guy really seems to like you," Dorothy said, not very impressed by the jewelry. "It's been a while since you were so serious with someone."

"Yeah, but it's not too easy findin' a man who appreciates the artistic and sophisticated side of me. We met at the museum, after all."

"Back in St. Olaf we had a famous artist, too", Rose started, oblivious to the other girls' slightly annoyed sighs. "Ingmar Söfenhöfter was the director of the cheese museum for a while… until they found out he used cheese from the exposition for his art."

Dorothy cast a stern glance at her friend, and after a little silence resigned. "What was his art, Rose?"

"He made sculptures of women. But of course they didn't last, cause the cheese would"

"Go moldy", the other girls chimed in.

"Exactly. But that's why his art became so popular – it represented the transience of life."

"With cheese…?" Blanche raised her eyebrows, but thankfully the conversation returned to her trip.

"So, remind us again, pussycat," Sophia said, "while Blanche was out on a private yacht, drinking champagne at the LOLA club, with a diamond collier around her neck, you were…"

"Ma, stop it."

"Sitting at home, alone."

"With a good book. That's better company than a lot of people have. And I couldn't care less about yachts and diamonds."

"If at least you were a real teacher, but no, you had to get knocked up by this yutz and-"

"This semester I have a tenth grade English course for the whole semester, while their teacher is away finding himself in India, I _am_ a real teacher."

"Still, even at 84 I get more dates than you."

"I wish you were on one right now, so I wouldn't have to listen to this."

"I wish you were on one, so I wouldn't have to say this."

Dorothy threw a malicious glance at her mother and Blanche decided to change the topic back to her, and her plans for the next week.

"Have I told you Robert got tickets for the latest Burt Reynolds play?"

"The one that's been sold out for months?" Dorothy asked.

"Man, he must've bought them ages ago!"

"Rose, you nitwit, he got them through his connections. He's friends with the director."

"You don't think he could get some more? I would absolutely love to see it," Dorothy said.

"Oh, I don't think so honey, I'm sorry."

When the day of the theater visit came, Blanche briefly thought back to that conversation, and the disappointment in her best friend's face. She knew how much Dorothy would've loved to see this show, not only because of the famous actor, but because of the high production value and the . Miami's cultural life seemed to grow in size and quality every day. But with the also growing interest, it had taken some work on Robert's part to get the tickets for this Saturday night. But Blanche hat insisted, and for her, she felt, he'd do a lot more than nag a friend for Burt Reynold's tickets. And now here she was, in her most elegant pink dress, wearing her Valentine's gift around the neck and sitting down beside her equally handsome date. She smiled at him and gave him a peck. Some things just weren't for everyone, she thought to herself, and leaned back to enjoy the show.


	3. March

The first week of March was a busy one for Dorothy. Her tenth grade was preparing for exams, her Spanish class at the adult education center was getting more demanding every day, her mother was socializing with some suspiciously active elders, and on top of it the city was filling with tourists and locals for the Miami carnival. For weeks, there were events all over town, especially in the latin immigrant quarters – films, concerts, expositions and parades; you couldn't go a day without running into something.

Finally, when the weekend came, she had some time to enjoy it. After a late breakfast with her roommates, they took a walk to the center, where the festival took place. On calle ocho, everything was ready and the first artists were already taking their stages. The usually so busy central streets were filled with people, colorful flags and a delicious smell of spicy exotic food.

"Would you look at that?" Blanche hushed. "All those latin guys in their tight pants…"

"Keep it down, Blanche, you're in a relationship."

"Just cause I'm seein' Robert, doesn't mean I have to walk around with my eyes closed to wonders of the world!"

Dorothy resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and directed her attention away from Blanche towards the pretty folkloric merchandise that vendors offered on the side, in between the many food stands.

After walking around a little, they ended up playing domino in the park, listening to the Cuban music that travelled to them from a few streets back. Later, Rose met Miles and they went off on their own, and after finishing their game, Sophia decided to spend the rest of the afternoon with her new gang instead of with her roommates. Left only with Blanche, Dorothy couldn't help but feel a little flutter in her stomach, for which she immediately scolded herself.

The two of them decided to return to the main street and get something to eat. While Dorothy nibbled on her empanada, and Blanche on her taco, they walked along the street, stopping from time to time to listen to some of the bands, and even more often to look at the local artists. Blanche bought a painting she particularly loved, an impressionist depiction of the Havana harbor on a spring afternoon. With the package under her arm, she walked along on Dorothy's side. Before heading home, they got ice cream, which Blanche proceeded to eat rather seductively while eyeing some of the handsome Cubanos they passed.

Dorothy chuckled silently. She just couldn't help it, even in a coma you could put a man within twenty miles, Blanche would roll over and shave her legs.

"What's on your mind, Dorothy?"

"Huh?"

"You're all spaced out, what were you thinkin' about?"

"Nothing in particular. It's a nice thing, this festival. It really makes you appreciate the cultural diversity of this town."

"It's also a great opportunity to meet men," Blanche commented. "Too bad you didn't seize it."

Dorothy shrugged and finished her ice cream. "I'm not as all that eager on that issue, you know. I can enjoy events even without being on the lookout for guys."

"Well, if you change your mind, the sailin' week's coming up; there'll be plenty of eligible bachelors around."

"I have a lot to do for school, both as a teacher and as a student, so I think I'll skip that one."

"What a bore," Blanche sighed. "I intend to enjoy the entire week with Robert – he happens to be a fabulous sailor, and will compete in the big race on Sunday."

"That's nice," Dorothy said absent-mindedly.

Blanche shot a half-questioning, half-suspicious glance at her friend, but didn't insist. Dorothy supposed she should be a little more friendly towards this Robert guy, but she just couldn't help feeling a certain resentment against the man who had what she'd never have. But then again, Blanche seemed to be happy, and that was what counted at the end of the day.

On Thursday night, the girls were watching L.A. Law, and Dorothy had decided to join them, still keeping her Spanish course book in her lap, trying to get the hang of all those conjunctions – simple past, perfect, indefinido, subjunctive present and past… It was so much more complicated than English, where half of these didn't even exist. But with the increasing influx of Spanish speaking people, including of course children and adolescents that had to attend high school, Dorothy wanted to at least be able to communicate with those who hadn't had the time to learn a lot of English yet, and also it would look great on her resume. But with the noise of the TV and her roommates' chatter it was hard to concentrate, and soon she gave up for the moment. With a sigh, she closed the book and put it on the coffee table.

Rose returned from the kitchen with a tray of lemonade and sat down on the sofa next to Blanche, just as the commercials ended.

"This episode is so fascinating, this guy with the multiple personalities. Was it actually him who committed the crime?"

"Kuzak's doing a good job defending him", Dorothy agreed. She quite enjoyed the show, not only for the cases, but especially for the character of C.J., the attorney who kicked ass and showed that there was more than gay or straight. She called it 'flexible', but Dorothy knew she was definitely bisexual, and it was a great satisfaction to see that the media we're finally starting to take representation more seriously.

When C.J. and Abby left from their celebratory dinner after their successful cooperation, laughing together on the sidewalk, Dorothy started to pay more attention to the screen. They sure looked flirty tonight, but she couldn't imagine that-

"Oh!"

"What?"

"My God."

They'd kissed. Two women had just kissed on national television, twice. Dorothy's first surprised glance was not directed at the TV but to her right, at Blanche. Her best friend looked flabbergasted, and she was firmly staring at the screen, intrigued by the sudden twist. Abby was supposed to be straight, wasn't she?

"Uhm… I'm sorry, I have to – I have to go home," Abby said, and Dorothy felt her stomach churn, as she watched C.J. watching her friend leave with an expression probably very similar to her own that cursed New Year's Eve. She had trouble maintaining her composure, as Rose and Sophia started to babble.

"Why did she do that?"

"Because she likes her, you moron."

"But now everything is going to be awkward, she doesn't like her back."

"You don't know that," Dorothy replied, "She might."

She exchanged a brief glance with Blanche, who hadn't said a word and looked a little tense. In the background, the introduction melody introduced a new day. Dorothy didn't have to wait long to see how this story continued, soon they were watching Abby stuttering, trying to apologize to C.J. in her office.

"That's why when you kissed me I didn't push you away."

"You kissed me back!"

"Yeah, I'd sorta like to forget the whole thing."

C.J. gently shook her head. "It's no big deal, Abby. It happened once, it doesn't have to affect our friendship."

Oh gee, they we're so dancing around each other, and Abby was way too nervous, her voice too high for it to be just that. Out of the corner of her eye, Dorothy watched Blanche's reaction.

"Look, in the daytime you're not even that cute," C.J. said and laughed. "Why _did_ you kiss me back?"

"I don't know. I – I was probably a little curious, I don't – I don't know! Why did you kiss me?"

Blanche's lips we're pressed tightly together, her cheeks more blushed than before. She'd crossed her arms before her chest, defensively, and her eyes jumped constantly from the screen to the floor and back.

"It _is_ going to affect our friendship, isn't it?"

"No, no I don't think so," Abby replied rather insecurely.

C.J. now was serious, and her little 'mh' was full of sadness and resignation. She knew what awaited her, and even though she was only a fictional character, Dorothy felt incredibly sorry for her.

The rest of the episode continued without another appearance of the two, and after the case had been solved, and the credits started, the living room was filled with that awkward kind of loud silence, at least to Dorothy's ears.

"Well, I hope they can stay friends," Rose said, before sipping her lemonade.

"Not gonna happen," Sophia contradicted. "After something like this, they either end up getting together or the friendship breaks apart. It never works, believe me!"

"They might work it out, though, don't you think?" Blanche asked, speaking for the first time.

"I don't know. But I think Abby's not as uninterested as she says," Dorothy commented.

"What do you mean?" Rose asked.

"She was playing it down, but didn't you see how nervous she was? Laughing, stuttering…she looked like she wanted to believe what she said, but she's definitely not convinced." As she continued, she looked at Blanche. "She might need some time to get used to the idea of falling for someone she didn't expect, but if she comes to terms with it, they could get a happy ending."

Dorothy hadn't really thought about saying this, it had just slipped off her tongue, and Blanche's reaction was poison for her attempts to forget their own similar incident. She was avoiding Dorothy's eye, blushing and looking rather uncomfortable all of a sudden. Dorothy waited and took a deep breath. Was it possible? Had her first assumptions about Blanche's behavior been right? _Was_ she insecure about her feelings? God, here she was again, with her heart hammering and her stomach full of butterflies.

"We'll just have to wait and see," Sophia said, and shrugged. "I'm tired, I'm going to bed. Good night, everyone."

"Good night, Sophia," Rose said.

"Good night, Ma." Dorothy watched her mother leave and her eyes came to rest on Blanche again. Her best friend still looked tense, and she was trying to come up with something to say when Rose beat her to it.

"Are you okay, Blanche?"

She didn't seem to hear the question, staring off into space. Dorothy reached out and placed her hand on Blanche's knee. The southern belle flinched and Dorothy quickly pulled back.

"Why're you starin' at me like that?"

"Are you alright?" Rose asked again.

"Of course I am. Perfectly alright."

"You looked a little upset. Didn't you like tonight's episode?"

"I'm just a little tired, I've been out so much with Roger, and he always leaves me exhausted- and I'm not talkin' about the sailin'…"

Dorothy rolled her eyes, whereas Rose just looked a little puzzled.

"Then what are you talking about?"

"Sword fighting, Rose! She's talking about sex, as always."

"I better go rest a little, tomorrow night we're going out again, and we've got the whole weekend planned out."

When Blanche had said good night and left, Dorothy saw her Spanish book still lying on the coffee table beside her empty glass. She took it and was going to have another look at the exercises, when Rose suddenly asked:

"Did something happen between you and Blanche?"

Dorothy looked up at her, hoping it was a general question. Rose generally wasn't a very attentive person, after all.

"What do you mean?"

"Normally she enjoys being close to you, but recently she seems to avoid it, she practically jumped when you touched her. It seems odd."

"No, Rose, nothing happened between us," Dorothy said, choosing to take the safe way out. She couldn't tell anyone, not even – or perhaps least of all - Rose. "She was probably just lost in thought and I startled her."

"But you did notice that she seems to avoid you?"

"Blanche doesn't avoid me."

"Not as much as a few weeks ago, but… she's a lot less physical with you."

"She was before?"

"All the time! Don't tell me you didn't notice! Anytime something scary happens, she hides behind you. When she's happy, she hugs you, holds your hand. When she's sad, you're her shoulder to cry on. She used to do it with you so much more than with anyone else."

Dorothy shrugged, not letting it show how fast her heart was beating. "I don't know," she simply said. Well, it's getting late and I should study some more before bed, so I'm going to call it a night. And don't worry, Rose, everything is fine."

"If you say so…"

She said goodnight, got ready for bed and took her notes to bed with her. Her eyes flew over the pages, but the words mostly didn't get further than that. Her mind was occupied with a whole other issue – Blanche. Just as things seemed to go better, here she was again, back at her very first doubts. Could it be that Blanche really was confused? Could it be that there was hope? Dorothy put her school stuff aside, since tonight she wouldn't get any more studying done. Instead, she got out her private notebook from the bottom of the lowest drawer of her nightstand, and in no time she filled several pages with her thoughts condensed in mediocre verses. Since the start of the year, she'd filled almost two of these little books, more than she usually managed in a year, and it was only the middle of March. It was the only way she had to deal with this chaos, and these damn feelings that just wouldn't go away.

When finally, way too late, she switched off the light and went to sleep, her dreams revolved around Blanche again. They were on some kind of TV show, which only Dorothy seemed to be aware of, and their life was broadcast all over the nation. Consequently, Dorothy tried to act even more discrete, but Blanche kept flirting with her, insinuating that as they'd kissed after dinner on the last episode, she'd been thinking, reconsidering, and then she kissed her. For a dream, it felt amazingly real – Blanche's tongue softly probing, her sweet smell clouding Dorothy's mind, the gentle touch of her hands…

Dorothy awoke, sweating and a little out of breath. She lifted a hand and rested its back against her forehead. Slowly, her heart calmed down. Her biological clock told her it was about three or four in the morning – too early to get up and take a cold shower. She tried to fall asleep again, but the tingling in her guts wouldn't let her. With a little sigh, she let her right hand wander, from her chest over her belly and finally between her thighs. Slowly, softly, she dipped her fingertips into the hot moistness that awaited them. Eyes closed, she recalled Blanche's pink cheeks from earlier that night, her plunging neckline in that mauve silk nighty, and the last part of her dream. Thinking that maybe someday she'd stand a chance to hold the little woman in her arms, to kiss her like that… that it could be Blanche's fingers caressing her, she'd cover every last inch of the petite porcelain body with kisses and touches, to have that sweet voice moan with pleasure, whispering indecencies in her ear...or to think that, oh, just maybe, she'd get to taste not only her mouth but also -

"Oh God, Blanche," she gasped as her whole body shook for a second or two and pleasure flooded through her like a hurricane. As it gradually subsided, Dorothy felt the usual hint of remorse, but before it could settle in, she thought of Blanche once more, of her sweet smile, the sparkling blue eyes that rivaled the sky and the sea, and quickly she was falling asleep again, off to be with her beloved in the land of dreams.

A few days later, her friend Jean called and asked if she could come visit. She had a week off work around Easter, and they hadn't seen each other for over a year, not since Jean's last visit and her little crush on Rose. Dorothy talked to her regularly, but it would be great to have her around for a few days, so she said yes without even asking her roommates. In about two weeks' time, Jean would be here with her, and she was really looking forward to it.

In the last week of March, the Key Biscayne Arts Festival took place, and the girls all went to the museum for Blanche's exposition opening. It was a great success, the press made lots of pretty photos of the important people, including Blanche and her boyfriend with the director. There was free champagne, lots of paintings and sculptures all reunited under the motto 'Sun and Moon – Heaven and Earth'. Dorothy was generally interested in art and usually enjoyed these kinds of events, but this time it was special. She loved the stars and space, had done so since she'd been a little girl in the way too bright nights of Brooklyn, and the museum had put together some magnificent pieces. Looking at the statues of the Gods that had given the planets their names, Dorothy couldn't help but feel that one reminded her of Blanche. The sculpture of Venus was so sensual, her naked marble body barely covered with a marble cloth or two, showing her small perky bosom, she also had Blanche's tiny nose, and Dorothy contemplated her longer than any of the others. It made her wonder if Blanche had ever had such long hair, and how she'd look with it, and maybe she'd have wondered about other, more inappropriate things, if the director's speech hadn't distracted her.

Later, after walking around a little, she got lost for the second time. This time it was a painting that captivated her, a beautiful portrayal of a couple under the stars. A blonde woman was sitting with her back to the observer, nude and with her long her rather disheveled. She was embracing another person, a redhead who was sitting between her straddled legs, and in that intimate position they were contemplating the star-filled sky above them, where little points of light seemed to dance in spirals, forming colorful nebulas and hypnotizing, flaring galaxies. The rest of the canvas was darkish, with something looking a little like a forest in the background. Dorothy didn't know why, but she couldn't take her eyes off it. For a while, she examined the two people – the blonde's back was painted with beautiful detail, her bosom was visibly pressed against the other person's back, and it was that other person that had Dorothy puzzled. She couldn't put her finger on it, but for some reason she was sure it was another woman. The auburn hair was long, touching her shoulders, hiding her face. Her skin looked soft, a little pale, and she seemed to fit into the embrace like the right piece in a jigsaw puzzle.

She didn't know how long she'd been standing in front of it when she felt somebody's presence beside her. A quick side-glance revealed it was Blanche, thankfully without her lapdog of a boyfriend. She was wearing one of her most elegant dresses, a knee-long, low cut, light-blue silk one that brought out her eyes in a way that made Dorothy's knees turn to pudding.

"You like this one, huh?" she asked, contemplating the painting in front of them.

"It's the most beautiful one I've ever seen."

She could feel Blanche's gaze linger on her, but she kept her own eyes fixed on the artwork.

"Well, if you like it that much, I could see if it's for sale. The artist's rather new, her work shouldn't be too expensive. And I might be able to get you a good deal."

"I wouldn't know where to put it..," she said, dreamily.

"We'll find a place! You haven't redecorated your room in ages, it's about time you put somethin' new up the wall."

"Then look into it for me, will you?"

"Of course, honey, I'll look it up first thing Monday mornin'. But now come on, don't you want to see the rest of the exposition while you're here?"

"Right away, just let me get another glass."

"I'll go check up on Roger. Ever since he won the sailin' race, people are all over him – he's even more famous than before. They're talkin' sponsorin' contract and everythin'!" Blanche winked before she turned around and happily returned to the crowd.

Dorothy took a last look at the picture before moving on.

 _ **AN:**_ thanks for reading! Updates are always first on ao3, it's just so much better. But as I want you guys and as many people as possible to read it, here it is. The L.A. Law episode is "He's a crowd" and it's available on youtube. The events and festivals mentioned are real and afaik already existed in the late 80s/early 90s.

Please comment, I'd love to hear what you think! Thanks to the one guest who already did so :)


	4. April

The Easter holidays were approaching fast, and so was Jean's visit. Dorothy was very much looking forward to it, and a week before, she announced it to her roommates over dinner in the kitchen.

"Girls, I've been meaning to tell you, I'll have a visitor come over Easter."

"That's nice, Dorothy, who is it?" Rose asked.

"My old friend Jean."

"That's lovely!", Blanche said. "How has she been? Has she moved on?"

"I think she has. She's still single, but she's feeling a lot better."

"It's been a while since we spoke; I'm looking forward to seeing her again!" Rose said, smiling. "She's such a sweet person."

"Does that mean I'll have to put up with you for the whole time?" Sophia asked.

"She's only staying for a few days. I'd rather have her stay with me, in my room."

Sophia's eyes narrowed, as she looked at her daughter critically. "Why, is there something you're not telling us?"

"Ma, don't be silly. It's just easier for all of us. And it'll be just like back in college, when we were roommates. It'll be nice."

"Yeah, just don't let it get too nice."

"Sophia, don't be mean. Dorothy might not get a lot of dates, but that doesn't mean she's going to get involved with Jean – does it?" Rose seemed to start thinking only after she spoke.

"It doesn't, Jean is just a friend."

"Well, I'm glad she's visiting again, I can't wait to go to the cinema with her. She's the only one who doesn't mind my crying when it gets emotional."

"Speaking of cinema, didn't you have a date tonight?" Dorothy asked, as she resumed eating.

Blanche nodded. "Yeah, well, Robert had to stay late at work, so he said he'd call me later, to tell me if he was coming over. But I'm pretty sure he will. He's got a really big appetite if you know what I mean…" She grinned.

"But the cannelloni will be cold by then!" Rose (said).

Dorothy just rolled her eyes.

School finished at two that Friday, and afterwards Dorothy hurried home to take care of the last preparations for her visitor. For the last time, she checked her room, the kitchen, the living room. Everything was clean; her mother was out shopping with Blanche for her upcoming birthday date, and Rose was still at work. Dorothy got the cake she'd made out of the fridge and set the table. If the airplane had arrived on time, Jean should be about ready to take her cab. Not knowing what else to do, she sat down on the sofa, leafing through some of the magazines on the coffee table. One of the articles dealt with the controversy created by the kiss on L.A. law that had outraged conservatives and scared off advertisers. The journalist tried not to take an obvious stance, but Dorothy picked up on the subtle tone of condescension and disapproval – and these were two women. As for men, the prejudices and reproaches were even worse.

She was just trying not to get mad over this whole idiocy when the doorbell rang. Quickly, she got up and opened the door to find her old friend Jean standing right in front of her. A big smile spread on both their faces and they hugged joyfully.

"Jean, it's so good to see you again, come in! How was the trip?"

"Oh thanks, it was fine, but gosh, is it hot here! And it's only April!"

"It's a good thing you didn't come in July or August, you'd probably melt! Here, let me take that suitcase. You're staying in my room, like I promised."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. The bed is more than big enough, also it'll be like back in college!"

After Dorothy had helped Jean store her stuff, they sat down in the kitchen over coffee and strawberry cake and chatted a little, catching up and making plans for the afternoon. Later, when Rose got home, they all went out for a little shopping and sightseeing, and afterwards, in honor of the occasion, they stopped by a local diner for dinner. When they finally got home, they were so tired they could hardly do anything but go to bed.

On Saturday, Dorothy and Jean got up later than the others, Rose and Blanche had to work and they saw them just briefly. Sophia seemed to be suffering from age-related insomnia anyway, and kept them company over breakfast. They also took her along on their walk by the beach in the soft morning sun, since Jean enjoyed her company and Dorothy was glad she wasn't just nagging her for a change.

After lunch they relaxed on the lanai, in the shadows of the palm trees, listening to the birds and sipping lemonade. When Dorothy told her friend about the exposition opening they'd attended, she was very interested, and so they decided to pay Blanche a visit. At the museum, they stopped by her office and she decided to accompany them for a while. Together, they strolled through the corridors and halls, and Jean admired the beautiful exposition.

"I really love this Mucha series – he's one of my favorite painters."

"His style is very elaborated, and very popular," said Blanche, nodding, "He was a real trendsetter for art nouveau. We're very lucky to have gotten the permission for this series on the moon and the stars, which of course fits perfectly into the rest of the exhibition. They were all painted right before he started his travels to America, at the dawn of the century."

Dorothy averted her gaze from the four paintings to turn it to the petite belle next to her, who was proudly explaining the background of the masterpieces. She sure was charming in this full-blown art historian mood… the professionality suited her, and as for the self-confidence, well, if anyone had no problem with that, it was Blanche. Still, seeing her so confident about something other than her looks was great, after all there was so much more to her than just appearance.

Later that night, Jean helped Dorothy to prepare dinner, while Blanche, as she'd announced profusely, was getting ready for another big date with Robert. Dorothy was already setting the table as she heard Blanche approach, calling for her. Sticking her head through the half-opened door, she asked: "Dorothy? Would you zip me up? The damn thing is stuck again."

"Sure, honey."

Blanche turned around in the open door, presenting her back to Dorothy, who stepped closer. Close enough for the sweet perfume to flood her lungs and take her breath away. Carefully, she reached for the zipper far down Blanche's exposed back (that was so obviously missing any sign of a bra), while with her other hand she grasped the top ends and held them together. After a little fiddling and tugging, the zipper moved and Dorothy could do as she was asked.

As she was done, Blanche turned around and looked up into her friend's eyes.

"Thank you," she purred, and after the words had escaped her lips, time seemed to stop for both of them – nobody moved, nobody said a word; it was just them and their ocean deep glance. Dorothy felt her accelerated heart beat hard, as Blanche's captivated look remained on her, seemed to look through her eyes right into her soul. Her lips were parted slightly, ever so seductively, and Dorothy didn't know what she would have done had Jean not abandoned the stove to check on her. Suddenly Blanche blinked, looked to the side where Jean had appeared, and laughed her little cover-up laugh.

"I better go finish my make-up," she said, before turning on her heel, smiling, and disappearing.

Dorothy felt Jean stare at her, but for the moment her friend decided not to say anything. Neither did she after dinner, when they'd sat down in the living room, watching Empty Nest. It was around that time that Blanche joined them briefly, until Robert appeared to pick her up. They said their hellos, they introduced Jean briefly, and the two love-birds took off.

Only when they'd gotten ready for bed, and were alone in Dorothy's room, it seemed her old friend could no longer hold back. Dorothy had just come back from the bathroom, and Jean was already resting on her half of the bed, when she sat down with her.

"Are you tired?"

Jean sighed. "Dorothy, I'm not sure how to say this, but I have to say it. I don't mean to be nosy, but… is there something going on between you and Blanche?"

Dorothy shrugged. "Not really. Well, no. Anyway, it's complicated. Was I that obvious?"

"You should've seen the two of you drowning in each other's eyes! It was intense."

Dorothy crawled under the covers and close to Jean.

"You know… I suspected you might have feelings for her, the last time I visited."

Dorothy raised her eyebrows.

"It was a hunch. I knew you were best friends, but you smile at her more than that, and you touch her differently, hug her longer than necessary. I got an eye for this kind of thing," Jean said and winked. "But I might've been wrong, so I kept my big mouth shut."

"You were right then and you are now," Dorothy admitted, shaking her head. "I guess I never learn."

"Does she know? Have you given any hints?"

"I don't need to anymore."

"Tell me already, what happened?"

"On New Year's, we kissed."

Jean squealed.

"Don't get too excited. Her date dumped her, and for some reason her superstition was greater than her straightness that moment, since I was the only available choice."

"You make it sound terrible."

"It wasn't terrible," Dorothy said, staring off into the distance as she remembered the kiss. "Actually, it was glorious. Blanche doesn't have her reputation for nothing. But afterwards things got ugly pretty quickly. She ran off, avoided me… Two weeks later I told her how I felt, and, well, let's just say it was a disaster.

"I'm so sorry," Jean said, patting her friend's shoulder. "Was she very mean?"

"She told me to forget it, and that she didn't wanna hear another word about it."

"But she did kiss you back that day?"

Dorothy nodded. "Blamed it on the tipsiness."

"And now? Are you back to best friends?"

"Sort of. I was trying to forget about it, but sometimes she's so…"

"Like tonight?"

"You heard about the kiss on L.A. Law, right?" Jean nodded. "When we watched that episode, and it came up that maybe Abby was not as sure as she pretended, Blanche got extremely tense. I can't help but hope she might be in a similar situation."

"Struggling with feelings for you." Jean took a deep breath. "That's a difficult issue. I take it she's never shown any interest in women?"

"Are you kidding? Not Blanche Deveraux. She couldn't even accept her brother being gay."

"Oh."

"Well, now she's kind of come to terms with it, but it took a while."

"Then I imagine if she suddenly feels attracted to you, she _would_ try to deny it – hard."

"But what if it's just wishful thinking?"

"I'm not sure, honey, and I don't want to get your hopes up for nothing, but I rather think there's more to it."

"You do? You're not just saying that?"

"Of course not! Wait and see how it develops. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe not. If I'm not, it's not gonna be easy. We still live in such a homophobic society, even though it's probably a lot better here today than back where she grew up."

"In the old south. And you've seen Robert- she's been seeing him for about two months already. That's her type, rich, handsome, popular." With a resigned gesture, she pointed to herself.

"Hey, stop that right there. No beating yourself down while I'm around. There things don't matter – and she is your best friend, that means she already loves you quite a lot, silly."

"You know the first thing she said when she found out about your little crush on Rose was how ridiculous it was that you preferred Rose over her."

"Seriously?" Jean laughed.

"She really is that selfish sometimes."

With that they gradually changed the topic, back to some old crushes from their college days, and they fell asleep thinking of the good old days.

It was on Tuesday that Blanche and Robert joined the other girls for cake and coffee on the lanai. Not that Blanche was getting tired of all the high-end restaurants and exclusive bars, oh not at all. But once in a while it was nice having a quiet afternoon at home, and her roommates' company was always fun. And it was today as well, until Sophia made a joke about Dorothy and Jean going to a gay bar, and the girls asked how she was dealing with Pat's death and if there was a new woman on the radar.

Blanche felt Robert tense up at her side, and he stopped eating his cake.

"Are you alright, honey?" she asked, but didn't get more than a half-hearted gesture out of him.

Later, when the round broke up and everybody returned to their own business, Robert asked, "Can I speak to you alone for moment?"

Blanche frowned, but said yes. They went to her room, where she sat down on the bed, he remained standing.

"That woman, that visitor –"

"Jean."

"She's… a dyke."

Blanche's looked at him with furrows in her brow. "Yeah, I know."

"That's disgusting."

"Robert?"

"You can't tell me you're okay with having someone like that stay in your house!"

"What the hell are you sayin'?"

"She's a sick person."

"I can't believe I'm hearin' this from you!"

"She should get help. It's a sin, and an illness."

"Gay people are not sick. Are you out of your mind?"

"You're telling me you support them and their disgusting lifestyle?"

"What does it matter to you how other people live their lives? My own brother is gay, by the way!

"It matters because it's wrong. Why do you think they're the ones getting AIDS?"

Blanche stared at him, mouth open and eyes wide. "You have gotta be kiddin' me."

"Well, let's not make a big thing out of this, I can come back when she's gone."

"Not a big – are you even listenin' to yourself?"

"Blanche, darling, calm down. The one I care about is you, not her."

"She is my friend!"

"Come on, let's go into town before the theatre, it'll take our mind off this whole thing."

"I don't think I feel like going to the theatre with you today."

Robert looked stern now. "Fine, we can do something else."

"I don't think so. I'm not feelin' so great. Maybe we better leave it for today."

"As you wish. I'll call you."

He gave her a short, reserved kiss before he left, rather brusquely and rapidly.

Soon after that, Dorothy stuck her head through the open door and saw her sitting there looking all upset and sad. Quickly, she tried to regain her composure.

"Are you alright, honey?" Dorothy asked, concerned.

"Yeah, it's all fine. I'm just not feelin' that great, so I took a raincheck on the theatre."

"Jean and I are going to the supermarket, do you need anything?"

"No, thanks."

Dorothy left and Blanche let herself fall down on her bed. She lay there staring at the ceiling for a long time, thinking about how this great relationship had just suffered a big crack. How could he say such things like they didn't mean a thing? Like they were not insulting people – her friends, her family! Clayton, Jean… and Dorothy, she thought. She wasn't totally straight either, if her confession after New Year's was anything to go by. They were not sick, not wrong. To her shame, not too long ago Blanche herself had held similar prejudices, but she'd grown and learned – both things Robert didn't seem exactly willing to do. His condemnation had been pretty clear. But he was so educated, so cultured… surely he would reconsider?

"No."

"No?"

"I'm not changing my mind on that. What they're doing is against nature, I told you."

"I'd hoped you were smarter than that," Blanche said, and crossed her arms. She was standing in front of Robert in the same place as their last fight two weeks earlier.

"So what are you saying?"

"That I'm dumpin' your sorry behind."

Blanche grinned at his flabbergasted face.

"Over this?"

"Yes, over this. Oh sure, you got money, and cars and a boat and houses, you aren't half bad in bed either… even a little artistic, that's a big bonus, but there's somethin' even more important than that. Common decency. I really liked you, Robert, but there's no way I'll be with a man who despises my family and friends for whom they happen to love. The one who's disgustin' here is you."

"Fine." He put on his jacket and turned to the door. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"Oh, trust me, I know," Blanche assured him. "You better get outta here and don't come back."

Robert stared at her for a few seconds, then he stormed out, even faster and angrier than the last time. Blanche followed slowly, and found the girls in the living room, looking up to her expectantly.

"What happened?" Rose asked, putting aside her magazine.

Blanche shrugged. "I ditched him."

"Why?" Dorothy seemed more than surprised at the sudden turn of events.

"He was an asshole," Blanche said, as she took a seat in the armchair on the right. "Turns out I misjudged him quite a lot. He's not smart at all."

"What did he do?"

"Be a homophobic piece of trash."

"Homo- what?" Rose didn't get it.

"Homophobic, Rose," Dorothy repeated. "It means he dislikes or hates gays and lesbians."

"He said some horrible things. I hope I never have to see him again."

"Good for you, honey," Dorothy said, reaching out for her. "I'm sure that wasn't easy."

"Oh, it wasn't that hard either. I don't wanna be with a guy who thinks my brother deserves to get AIDS… Oh, there are so many other, better fish in the sea… Which reminds me, I haven't been to the Rusty Anchor in a while, you girls feel like flirtin' with a few sailors?"

They didn't, but in less than a minute, Blanche was out the door and on her way to her favorite bar.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again – sluts just heal quicker."

"Ma!"

"Don't ma me – play, before I fall asleep!"

Dorothy returned to their scrabble game, but her mind was occupied with Blanche. Maybe she really had underestimated her.

 **AN** : If you've come so far, please leave a review! It would mean so much to me.


	5. May

May came and Blanche started to think that after all it wouldn't be that easy. She'd thought she could shrug the whole thing off as she did any unfortunate love-related incident, but even though she was trying hard, this one kept resisting. Dorothy and she had gone back to best friends, but that didn't mean everything was back to normal. Inside, Blanche felt something stir every time she thought about the damn New Year's Eve, and it just wouldn't leave her alone. Now that Robert was out of the picture, she'd been with a few other guys, nothing serious, but it kept her distracted for the moment.

They had not talked about the issue again, and Blanche hated how it stood between them like an invisible river neither of the two dared to cross. Blanche most certainly had no intention of doing so. Admittedly, it still bothered her, even after almost half a year, but she was determined to keep ignoring it and all its consequences. Anything else would have been unthinkable.

Blanche was sitting at her desk in the museum's office, staring off into blank space, while these thoughts meandered through her mind. She remembered how happy Dorothy had been to hear that the picture she loved so much would only cost her about 200$, thanks to Blanche's effort and the lack of fame of the artist. Maybe she could earn some of that money during a summer job at the museum? She'd done that before, and it had worked out pretty well. Maybe she should ask her if she wanted to return for the summer. But then again, spending so much time together every day… oh what was she even worrying about? She'd just ask her.

May was one of the busiest times of the year for Dorothy – not only had she exams to prepare for her students, with the stress of the finals approaching more teachers fell ill and more classes had to be subbed. Not to mention her Spanish final fell in the same time frame as the high school students' exams, so on top of it all she had to study as well. She liked the additional money she made, but she missed her free time. She hadn't been to the theatre in such a long time, she didn't even have time for the movies, she just about managed to read for a little while each day. Right now she was trying out the latest surprise hit, _The Firm_ by John Grisham, which seemed quite promising after the first few chapters.

It was around that time that the Miami Senior High School advertised a post as vice principal, and Dorothy decided she might as well go for it. She could use the raise, and she was confident she'd be able to handle the responsibility well. So far she hadn't told her roommates about it, and so she prepared her CV and all the documents at the desk in her room, alone.

They found out when the school called to schedule an interview, and Blanche was the one to pick up the kitchen phone first. She handed it over to Dorothy with a curious glance, and sat down at the table to wait and listen. Sophia was baking to her right.

"Monday at ten is fine, yes, thank you," Dorothy said, and after she hung up, returned to the table, her tea and Blanche.

"What was that about? A job?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, I applied for the vice principal job, and they want to interview me."

"Vice principal?" Sophia asked. "You haven't said a word about that."

"I wasn't very sure they'd even consider me, so I preferred to wait before I spread the news."

"If you get it, will you finally give me a bigger allowance?"

"We'll see about that, Ma."

"Vice principal, that must be exciting!" Blanche mused. "Actually, I once had a very interestin' thing with my school's vice principal, not long before I graduated-"

"Was there ever anyone you didn't have a thing with?" Sophia asked, burying her hands in the dough.

Blanche ignored her and continued to walk down memory lane. "He wasn't that much older and such a handsome man, with great taste – when he saw me in my stunnin' summer dress at the (party), I immediately felt he desired me. My date that night was rather dull, so at the end of the evenin', we went for a walk, by the little river and into the forest, where he ruined his suit to make a nice bed for us. Oh, it was a very nice night, he was as tender as a dew covered magnolia petal on a spring mornin' south of Alabama…"

"Alright, alright, we get it!" Dorothy exclaimed.

"We were talking about my daughter's new job, not the criminally relevant sexual escapades of the biggest slut to come out of Georgia since Kim Basinger."

"Ma!" Even though she had a point, Dorothy felt her mother was being a little too harsh, and with Blanche, half of the stories were just that, stories, anyway. No need to get so hostile.

Blanche just shrugged. "So, what do you think your chances are at the interview?"

"Pretty good, actually. I have a few days to prepare myself, and if everything goes smoothly, I think I could get it. It's not that glamorous, really. It's lots of paperwork, organization, and responsibility without lots of credit, and I'll still have to teach, but it would be a lot more secure than just subbing."

Blanche patted her friend's hand. "You go for it, honey."

The interview went well, and after another few days, she finally received the call that confirmed her new job. She immediately hugged her mother, who was the only one there, and as Rose came home, she immediately shared the news with her as well. But while she was especially looking forward to telling Blanche, the southern belle didn't seem to be coming home. So after dinner, instead of studying, Dorothy took a night off. After a little bit of TV, she decided to go out on the lanai and enjoy the mild evening.

"Tonight's a blue moon, actually", she said, after Rose's inquiry as to what she was going to do. "Maybe I'll just stargaze a little."

"A blue moon?!" Rose was on her feet. "I have to see that!"

"It's not actually blue, you nitwit! It's just an expression for the second full moon in a month."

"Oh." Disappointed, Rose sat down again. "Then I'll stay here."

Dorothy shook her head as she grabbed _The Firm_ , just in case, and headed outside. The last light was just fading near the horizon, turning the sky slightly pink. It was still warm and there were very few, very little clouds. The first stars were already twinkling, and the moon was just coming out behind their neighbors' palm trees. For a while, Dorothy read, but as night fell over Miami this last day of May, she put the book aside and leaned back to look up.

The moon was looking beautiful, glowing proudly in the middle of all the tiny stars appearing around it in the soft blue velvety sky. She could recognize the little bear, the big bear, the little w of the Cassiopeia, and oh, there was the belt of Perseus above her. It never failed to amaze her to think that thousands of years ago, people had already been looking at the same stars that she was contemplating here and now. It was a peculiar feeling, she felt so small and unimportant thinking of the long line of generations that had existed, and lived, and vanished. So many people, so many events that nobody remembered, who knew all the things that had happened here, in the thousands of years before the colonialization? It made her feel humble, and reminded her that she too would vanish someday, and sooner or later she and all the people around her would be forgotten. They didn't even leave beautiful stories like those of the constellations. Or maybe they would, who knew?

The sky had turned dark and a few little clouds had begun wandering across it when Dorothy heard steps and averted her gaze from the sky, only to see something even more beautiful. Blanche was stepping on the lanai, still dolled up in a tight black dress and silver jewelry that sparkled like drops of starlight. She smiled as she approached Dorothy and sat down on the lounger at her side.

"The girls told me you got the job," Blanche said softly, "congratulations!"

Dorothy's face lit up even more. "Thank you, honey."

"So when do you start?"

"August."

"Then you will still need a summer job?"

"Probably - Why are you asking?"

"Oh, I was just thinkin', you might wanna return to the museum. It worked out well last time, and I'm sure I could get Mr. Allan to give you another part time job."

"That's definitely a good idea, I might take you up on that offer."

At that, Blanche smiled and looked up.

"They also told me you were stargazin' at a blue moon…"

"I didn't feel like studying tonight, so it was a nice alternative, looking at the stars instead of verb tables. How was your dinner?"

"Oh, it was nice…"

"Just nice?"

"Well, he kept rambling on about his ex-wife all the time, but the food was great, so it wasn't a total waste of time," said Blanche, and leaned back, hands crossed over her chest. A peaceful silence surrounded the two women as they took in the magical painting that was the sky above them. The noise from the city had died down, and the black blanket of the night was warmly covering them. For a while, they just sat beside each other, breathing, thinking.

Dorothy felt the rational quietness from before turn a little more emotional with Blanche's presence at her side, and she noted how her heart fluttered, but it did no longer upset her. Maybe it would all work out, and maybe it wouldn't, who knew. All that she knew was that she was quite happy with the way things were going, and she could lie here like this forever.

"You know it's been ages since I looked at the sky like that? It's so beautiful."

Dorothy tilted her head to look at her friend. The lost expression on her face made her even more alluring, and the way the lights reflected in her blue eyes…

"Can you imagine what it looks like without all this city light in the background? You could see the Milky Way and like a million stars… like a thickly woven dress. Just imagine lying on some tropical island, with the warm sand below you and the million lights above you, with nothing but the roars of the ocean in the background…"

Now Blanche averted her gaze too, and looked over at her best friend.

"I never knew you could be such a romantic, Dorothy!"

I can when I'm with you, Dorothy thought, but thankfully kept her mouth shut, and just smiled.

"It's one of the things that's always fascinated me – it's always there, every night, and it seems you could just raise your arm and pluck the stars right off the sky, but what are they, really? What is out there? People have been observing the sky for thousands of years, yet our small minds can't wrap themselves around the greatness of all this … out there."

"No wonder it has inspired artists since the beginnin' of time."

"And poets," Dorothy said and took a deep breath

 _"_ _The stars that round the Queen of Night_

 _Like maids attend her_

 _Hide as in veils of mist their light_

 _When she, in full-orbed glory bright_

 _O'er all the earth shines from her hight_

 _A silver splendor_ "

Blanche's gaze that had seemed surprised at first, softened with the words Dorothy recited, and finally she looked quite moved. Her eyes remained on Dorothy, long, longer than was maybe appropriate, but who was there to judge? Dorothy remained quiet, returning the gentle, searching glance. Suddenly the world felt so very small under that endless dark ceiling. With every breath they took they seemed to get closer to each other, always a little, just a little more, hearts and eyelids fluttering.

The touch of Blanche's lips on her cheek was tender and warm, the smell of her perfume in the cooling night air enticing, promising, breath-taking.

"Good night, Dorothy," the belle whispered, still so close that Dorothy could feel the words on her skin.

Then she stood up and left, leaving behind a smitten Dorothy who for a long time could do nothing but fall back in her chair and behold the beauty both in the sky and in her heart.


	6. June

When Dorothy had finally got her exam over and done with, and the school semester ended, she felt more relieved than usual. It felt like turning a page and starting a new chapter. After this summer job, she'd be a vice principal, and she couldn't wait to get started. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this optimistic – certainly not after the divorce five years ago, when Stan had left her for some twenty year old stewardess and ran off without even telling her, and not even moving to Miami almost two decades earlier. She'd had the kids, and after they'd left for college, she'd stuck to the same old jobs, trying to make a living. This, right here, was the step she'd been waiting for for so long. If it hadn't been for the damn gambling, she might have made it a few years ago already, but now, at last, her time had come. No more subbing, no more insecurity.

As these thoughts crossed her mind, she sat on the lanai, smiling to herself, with John Grisham resting in her lap – well, at least his latest book. Blanche sat in the lounger to her right, sunbathing and reading People magazine, and Sophia was napping, when Rose joined them.

"Dorothy, can I borrow your pearl earrings?"

"Sure, honey, do you have a special date tonight?"

"Oh yes, Miles is taking me to a dance marathon."

"A dance _marathon_?" Blanche asked.

"It's for charity. But there's a thousand dollar prize for the couple that wins!"

"Did you say a _thousand_ dollars?"

"I could finally afford that Meister dress I've been eyeing for a month! It would be perfect for the museum banquet, but it's just so expensive!"

"What's all this money talk?" Sophia asked, sitting up in her lounger and interrupting the euphoric chatter.

"Rose told us just now that there's a dance marathon where you can win a thousand dollars – _tonight_!" said Dorothy, just a little miffed at her friend.

"I'm sorry. So can I have your earrings?"

"Oh, you can have them, but you can also bet I'll be there."

Blanche looked rather skeptical. "Dorothy, come on, where are you going to find a date that fast?"

"As a matter of fact I met a very nice guy at the library last week, I'm going to phone him and see if he's free."

"Don't forget to mention the prize!" Sophia said, as Dorothy headed for the phone.

"I better give Sam Burns a call…" Blanche said, and followed Dorothy to the kitchen.

When she got there, Dorothy hadn't finished.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "Please reconsider, it's only once a year."

Blanche grabbed a glass of orange juice and sat down on the stool.

"Aha. Oh well. Goodbye then." With a sigh, she hung up.

"Bad news?"

Dorothy shrugged. "He doesn't want to go."

"If you still wanna go, I can set you up with someone from my B-list."

"Normally, I'd be offended at that, but for a thousand bucks I'm willing to ignore it."

"Great, let me get my book," Blanche said and rushed off to her room, returning a minute later with a little black notebook. First, she called the guy for herself, who happily cancelled another engagement to be with her, as she gleefully pointed out. Then she went over the names with Dorothy.

"Not Ed McMillan, he's a lousy dancer… ah, yes, Paul Thomas, he's your man. Reasonably good-looking, and not a bad dancer. Here's his number - or, on second thought, maybe I better call him."

"I hope that's true, and you're not setting me up with a loser so you can win."

Blanche gasped. "Dorothy Zbornak, I cannot believe that you think I would be so shallow! He's a good catch, otherwise he wouldn't be on my list! Now let's just hope he's free tonight."

Dorothy watched as Blanche stepped to the phone again and talked this guy into going out with her friend last-minute. Luckily, he didn't have plans, and he accepted to pick her up at seven. As she saw Blanche's smug smile, Dorothy couldn't help but smile back.

"Thanks, honey."

"Anytime. But I'm still set to win. I absolutely need that dress."

"Which one are you talking about?"

"Don't you remember? The black one with the delicate floral ornaments, with the see-through upper part?"

"The one that costs like 400 bucks? You're not serious."

"Oh, I am serious. I'm gonna dance tonight and I won't stop til I have the money for that dress."

They arrived at the location at half past seven, with more than enough time to chat and get their numbers and a drink before the dancing would start. Dorothy had become acquainted with Paul, who seemed nice enough, and didn't look half bad in his black tux. Still, her eyes more often than not drifted to Blanche, who had brought up the big guns – maybe planning on giving a few of the elder competitors a heart attack. Her dress was short, dark blue and sparkled more than the disco ball, but most of all it looked more like lingerie than an evening gown. It was dangerously low cut, offering a lot more skin than appropriate. On the back, it was cut almost until the end of her spine, except for a small strap to hide a bra. It was not that tight, but while leaving room to dance and move, it certainly served to accentuate the southern belle's curves.

"She sure is the light of the party," sighed Paul, following Dorothy's glance. The latter forced herself to look away and nodded. Luckily, they were saved from more awkward conversation when the host stepped on the little stage in the corner of the dancefloor, and called for their attention.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 13th annual Jefferson Hospital heart charity dance marathon! Please come closer and step on the dancefloor, as we're about to begin!" He talked a little about the band, and the purpose of the evening, and how appreciated their donations would be, while the couples gathered around him. Dorothy looked around, and was surprised to see numbers up to a hundred on people's signs – the incentive of a prize never failed.

"Alright now, let's let the dance marathon begin! A one, a two, a one two three four!"

With that, the band began to play the first upbeat song, and everyone started dancing. Paul turned out not to be bad at all, and it was fun dancing with him. Still, she noticed how her eyes were always drawn to Blanche, as soon as she was anywhere near her visual field. She tried not to look, and instead focused on having fun – this was going to be a long night.

After three hours, they took the first allowed break, to go to the loo, and also to sit for a minute. Five minutes were the maximum, or you'd be disqualified. So Dorothy tried to drink rather quickly, to return to the dancefloor with Paul. They chatted a little amid all the dancing, especially during the slower songs, during which she was not really comfortable and preferred not to get too close. He was good company, but after five hours the dancefloor had lost about half of the participants, and it became harder and harder not to look at Blanche and how elegantly she twirled across the parquet. Paul seemed to notice, despite her attempts to control herself.

"If it had been up to me, I wouldn't have left her," he said, during a rather slow cha cha. "She really is something."

"Oh, definitely," Dorothy replied rather absent-mindedly.

"Too bad she won't settle for anyone."

Now he had her attention. "What?"

"She can't be truthful. Sooner or later somebody else will cross her way, and she can't resist the new and unknown."

"Boy, do you sound bitter. How long were you two together?"

"A few months, on and off. She's just the type for relationships, I guess."

Dorothy's expression hardened. "She stayed with George for over thirty years."

"She stayed with him, but I doubt she let an opportunity pass by."

"Then you clearly don't know her. She is extremely loyal to those she loves."

Thankfully, Rose interrupted their conversation, as she approached them dancing.

"Why the serious faces? Getting tired, are we?"

"You wish," replied Dorothy. "I could go on for hours."

And that they did. With every passing hour, less couples remained on the dancefloor, and when the morning light started to enter the hall, there were only four left. Blanche had taken her shoes off and was moving as little as possible, obviously the long night had taken its toll on her. Dorothy too felt like kicking off her shoes and dropping dead, but being so close to winning there was no way she was going to give up. The next ones to retreat were the other couple, leaving only the three girls with their partners, dancing slowly but steadily. Then, suddenly, Paul moaned in pain, and let Dorothy go to grab his ankle.

"Oh God, I think I've sprained my ankle… I'm sorry, Dorothy, I can't go on, I'm out."

"Shake it off, whimp!" Dorothy yelled, but when he fled, she didn't bother to go after him. She stayed in the off-area, to watch the finale with the other bystanders, but she hadn't been waiting more than a minute, when suddenly also Sam seemed to have lost interest.

"What is it, are you in pain?" Blanche asked.

"No, but I will be if my mother catches me, and she just walked in. I'm sorry Blanche, I quit!"

"Don't you dare! No, Sam, come back here!"

She chased after him, and with dismay Dorothy realized Rose was about to win – or not, she thought, as she had an idea. Quickly, she followed Blanche into the corridor. She found her alone and lost, leaning against the wall.

"It's over."

In the background, they could hear the speaker already announce the winning couple.

"Maybe it's not," Dorothy replied. "We could team up."

Blanche stared at her, suddenly a lot more awake. "But what will people say-"

"Who cares! Do you want the thousand dollars or not?"

After a second, Blanche nodded. "Alright. Hurry up."

Together, they hurried back, just as Rose was rejoicing over her apparent victory. When the host saw them, he quickly took the mic again.

"Wait a minute, it's not over yet! It looks like we have another couple re-entering the dancefloor!"

And on cue, Dorothy reached around Blanche's waist, took her hand in hers, and started to lead her as if she'd done it a million times before. With their heads held high, they started to waltz over the parquet. She was sure everyone was staring at them, surprised or outraged or amused, but she couldn't see. All she saw in those moments were Blanche's wide blue eyes, the flush of red on her cheeks and the little upward twist of the corners of her mouth. Her other senses were much too busy digesting the warmth of her hand, the softness of her waist under that thin dress, and the alluring scent, to even think about anyone else.

Rose later told them about the confusion they provoked, but Dorothy only remembered waking up from her trance as the host announced them as the winners of the marathon, and Blanche, ecstatic at the news, threw herself at her new dance partner and hugged her tight.

"We won! We won!" she exclaimed, jumping up and down as if she hadn't just spent twelve hours dancing.

Dorothy just stood there and smiled, overwhelmed, when Blanche grabbed her to plant a kiss on her cheek.

"We won!"

"I know, honey, I got it" she said, and kissed the southern belle on her blushed cheek.

The rest of the morning was a blur, somehow they received the check, collected their shoes and other belongings dropped all around, and took a cab home, since their respective dates had both taken off without them. The city was quiet at this hour, still sleepy after a long Saturday night, just as they were. Inside the car they hardly spoke, both lost in thought and trying not to fall asleep. From time to time, Dorothy stopped looking out the window and stole a glance of Blanche, who despite everything still looked gorgeous in the cool morning light, her sharp profile glowing against the soft morning sun coming through the window.

As they got home, there was nobody waiting for them, so they gave in to the first impulse – letting themselves fall on the couch. Blanche kicked off her shoes again, and Dorothy finally took hers off, too. With a sigh, she leaned back in the cushions.

"Boy, what a night."

"I'll say. I feel like I could drop dead."

"You better don't, or all that dancing was for nothing."

"Of course I won't," Blanche replied, playfully boxing Dorothy's arm. "Not before buyin' that dress!"

"That really must be some piece of clothing."

"Wait til you see it on me, it'll turn every head in the room."

"I don't doubt that. You already managed that tonight."

A gentle smile spread on Blanche's lips as she looked at her best friend. "Still, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have won."

"I thought _we_ won – you don't plan on keeping all the money for yourself, do you?"

At that, her smile faded. "Of course not! We'll split it, fair and square."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." Dorothy rubbed her temples.

"It's alright. We're pretty exhausted."

"How about I make us some coffee?" Dorothy offered. She most certainly needed one anyway, if she didn't want to spend the whole Sunday sleeping.

"Perfect. Just let me get changed and freshen up," Blanche said, and rushed off to her room.

Dorothy put on some coffee, then she went to change, too – after dancing all night, it was no wonder she felt sticky and dirty. For the sake of efficiency and comfort, she just put on her long white-ice blue nightgown. As soon as she'd buttoned it up, she returned to the kitchen to check on the coffee. While the marvelous dark liquid steadily dropped into the pot, she got some cheesecake out of the freezer and set the table.

When Blanche returned, she was rewarded with a surprised "Oh!"

Dorothy turned around, but wasn't prepared for the sight that the southern belle was to her tired and rebellious brain. Blanche, smiling happily, was wearing her bright yellow nightie with the pineapples that always looked so much better than a yellow nightdress with exotic fruit on it should. The skin below the crossed neck holder straps glistened with moistness, and there was a drop slowly finding its way down the generously displayed cleavage. Dorothy knew she was staring, but she couldn't bring herself to look away. When she finally managed, Blanche didn't seem bothered, or even aware of how inappropriately long that glance had been.

"Oh Dorothy, you always know just what I need!"

She couldn't help blushing, so she quickly turned again to get the coffee pot, and when she returned to the table, she was determined to control herself. With composure, she poured the coffee, while Blanche was already digging in the chocolate cheesecake. Dorothy sat down next to her, and quickly started to eat, too - some nourishment would do her good.

Two slices of cake and a big cup of coffee later, Dorothy did indeed feel a lot better. The cheerful gossiping with Blanche about the other competitors and their dates did the rest. Soon, they were giggling together over a second coffee, and the happy exhaustion faded, leaving only the happy part.

"You know what? Since it's Sunday, and we don't really have anything important to do, why don't we go buy that dress as soon as the store opens?"

Dorothy looked at her friend questioningly. "Today?"

Blanche shrugged. "Why wait? I think after last night, we deserve to spoil ourselves a little."

Dorothy agreed and after resting a while on the lanai in the soft morning sun, they got ready to go downtown. They took Blanche's car, and decided to get the dress first, before having a look at other stores. Neiman Marcus was located in a beautiful sand colored building in Coral Gables. Blanche headed straight for the third floor, and Dorothy just followed her. When she saw the dress, she had to admit it was more beautiful than she'd remembered, but still, 400 dollars was an awful lot of money for just one item.

"Are you going to try it on?" she asked, as Blanche picked out the size.

"I've tried it on lots of times, I know it fits. But if you want, I can put it on later at home for you," the southern belle replied, and winked. "For now, let's go lookin' for somethin' for you, darlin'."

She didn't even need anything, but Blanche was so determined to find something that Dorothy couldn't resist. She let her best friend guide her persistently through several stores, and received her honest advice on the outfits she made her try on. Dorothy was mostly skeptical, but when she put on the long crème-colored evening gown, she was rather pleased with what she saw in the mirror. The fabric fell down in long, soft waves, the color complemented her skin rather well, and the little parts of golden paillettes across the chest sparkled. After a second, she pulled the curtain aside and stepped out of the changing stall, awaiting Blanche's comment.

Blanche's eyes widened. "Why, hello there!"

"You like it?"

"Are you kiddin', look how you glow! 'Course I like it! Are you gonna take it? Say you're gonna take it."

Dorothy contemplated her reflection. "I think I will. It does look pretty good, and it doesn't cost half of what you spent for yours."

As Dorothy took off the dress and changed back into her normal clothes, she couldn't help but think how lovely and positive Blanche was today – not a single comment on her appearance. On the other hand, she'd just helped her win half a thousand bucks, so maybe it shouldn't be such a surprise.

After investing a fifth of Dorothy's share in the dress, they took some more time to stroll around the mall and the city center, picking up a purse and bracelet on the way. It sure felt good to spoil yourself, Dorothy thought, and smiled, as she watched Blanche curiously browse through the big romance bookshelf. For a moment, she got lost in thought again, but she quickly pulled herself together and left her roommate's side to pay for the book she'd picked (the latest John Irving).

On the way home, they bought a pizza for lunch, which they didn't have to share as Sophia was with her Canasta Club and Rose was apparently still with Miles. It was a rather quiet Sunday afternoon, that Dorothy spent finishing The Firm in a three or four hour long session on the couch, since she just couldn't put it down. It didn't surprise her at all it was the number one bestseller in the whole country. After an early dinner, this time with all the girls, she tried to find a place for it and the new one in her already overcrowded bookshelf. It had started to rain, so instead of stargazing, from which she lately derived great pleasure, she stayed in her room and tried to put all the bottled-up feelings from last night and this incredibly long day. The pleasant silence helped Dorothy listen to her heart, and soon her pen flew over the pages, pouring out what she couldn't say, until she was too tired and fell asleep earlier than in a long time.

On Tuesday night, Dorothy was cleaning out her room, especially her desk and bookshelf, from all the clutter that had accumulated in the course of tha last semester. Her heart still fluttered at the memory of the weekend, but reality had caught up with her in the meantime. Today, for example, Blanche had another date with that Sam guy, who would take her out for drinks, and probably a lot more. Dorothy sighed, as she shoved a handful of books she'd not sorted out back into the shelf. If only she knew what that woman was up to! And as if Blanche had read her mind, she suddenly heard a gentle knock on the door she'd left ajar. Dorothy turned and saw her best friend's beautiful face peek out from behind the door.

"Blanche, what's up? Can I help you with anything?" she asked, as she uncrossed her legs and turned towards her. Blanche smiled.

"Nah, I was just gettin' ready and I thought, since I'm already tryin' on outfits, I might as well keep my promise from the other day, and tadaaa!" Beaming, she stepped inside Dorothy's room in the stunning new dress, posing with a hand on her waist and twisting a little on the heels.

Dorothy was glad she'd been sitting, because boy had Blanche been right about the dress – it wasn't just pretty, it looked _heavenly_! The soft black fabric hugged Blanche's curves without giving too much away, the ornaments sparkled like real gold, and the way the upper part showed off skin through that thin veil of black lace…

"What'cha think?"

Dorothy slowly stood up, trying not to show how floored she was.

"I… I don't even know how to…" Her eyes wandered up and down and up again. "I think it's the most ravishing thing I've ever seen. Perfection."

Blanche smiled broadly, taking a few steps toward her friend. "I told you it would turn heads."

"Oh, I don't doubt it will," Dorothy said, and her voice was lower than intended. "But I wasn't talking about the dress."

Drawn in by the slightly surprised, expectant look in Blanche's eyes, she took another step forward.

"You know you don't need a dress, honey. This," Dorothy let her right hand brush softly against the curve of Blanche's waist, tracing downward, "only serves to wrap what is already there, and where the true beauty lies – and that's you."

Blanche's lips parted slightly as she took in those words, and her eyes clung to Dorothy's, searching, waiting, fighting.

Eventually, a whisper escaped her lips. "Dorothy."

"Yes?" she asked softly, fearing she'd drown in those ocean blue eyes.

Then, finally, Blanche leaned in. Standing on tiptoe, the southern belle leaned forward, closing her eyes and the gap between them in a tender kiss. Dorothy responded immediately. Gently, she kissed her back, laying an arm around her lace-covered shoulders. Blanche gave in and sank into the embrace as the kiss deepened, holding on to her as if her very life depended on it.

A/N: Blanche's dress is real, the designer's David Meister and it's on neiman marcus's website (look it up it really is gorgeous). Poetic license. Also, the pineapple nightie appears in s7e2 and the idea of the dance marathon is obviously taken from s3e2.  
Please please leave a comment and tell me what you think, that's what keeps me going!


	7. July

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

The music was loud, almost deafening. People all around her shouted in order to communicate, or danced, or drank, or all of it. Blanche sat on one of the stools across the room, away from the bar and away from the dancefloor, in front of a large glass of Long Island Ice Tea and an increasingly frustrated date. Sam kept trying to make conversation, but Blanche barely participated. Sip by sip she tried to drown her bad conscience, and unfortunately, it wasn't working.

Idiot. You're such a goddamn idiot.

This was her second order, and it was half empty by now, since it failed to shut up her inner voice. Sam asked her to dance, again, and she declined.

"Not now."

With badly concealed annoyance, he slammed down the rest of his whiskey. Blanche couldn't care less. Her thoughts were somewhere else entirely. Less than an hour ago – or was it two already? – she'd committed a huge error, the problem was she was still fighting with herself about what part had been the erroneous one. Kissing Dorothy had certainly not felt wrong at the time, on the contrary. In the past six months she'd thought of their New Year's kiss more often than she cared to admit, and this one today had felt just as wonderful. Still, after a minute or two of passion, she'd tensed up, suddenly she was shocked and afraid and overwhelmed. So she'd run off. Like a pathetic, abominable coward, she'd left Dorothy standing there, and in some kind of autopilot she finished dressing up and left with Sam for their date. Now she was sitting here in this mediocre bar, and everything felt wrong. She hated the place, the noise, the company, not even the drinks were strong enough for her to keep up this charade.

Oh, what was she going to do? This had been haunting her for six months, and now it had definitely caught up with her. The little control she'd had left was gone, and she was panicking. Blanche Devereaux had never fallen for a woman. Never even entertained the notion. Never thought anything like this could happen to her. Even just thinking about it made her hands shake, so she quickly took another big sip of her 'tea'. The signs were all there, now that she thought about it, weren't they? The desire to be close to her, the flutters when she was… She tried to suppress it, she tried so hard, with Robert, Sam, and countless others, but every time she returned home, where Dorothy was, she couldn't help but think about her, the softness of her touch and the loving look in her eyes. Unconsciously, she brushed over her bottom lip with two fingertips, remembering how-

"Blanche, what the hell is going on with you tonight?" Sam asked, looking rather angry now. "Like to share what you're thinking about so hard?"

"No," she replied, trying to maintain the little composure she'd left. "Shall we dance now?"

Sam seemed a little surprised, but accepted, and together they fought their way to the dancefloor. Blanche tried to look like she was having fun, tried to be a good sport, but her brain seemed unable to comply. Images of the dance marathon with Dorothy flashed up in her mind's eye, and she found herself wishing she was with her. She shouldn't have run away, not like this, not for the second time. But at the same time the thought of that confrontation scared her half to death. What could she say? What would Dorothy say? No, she just couldn't, not now, not ever. Surely she was mistaken about her feelings, there was no way that this was really love. A silly temptation. There were few things in bed she hadn't tried, and this was one of them, so wasn't it just natural to be curious? But Blanche Devereaux would not act upon it. She did not date women. Maybe her brother had announced late in that he was gay, but no way in hell something like this would happen to her. Not to Blanche Devereaux. She liked men, always had and always would. She was overreacting, surely this wasn't more than a silly confusion. It would pass, she just needed a little more time.

Such were her thoughts as she listlessly danced with Sam, who was regarding her less critically, and seemed to have fun. They danced for five or six songs, and Blanche had almost calmed herself down. Then a more romantic tune came up and he embraced her. She let it happen, trying to return to being her usual self. She'd almost stopped thinking at all, when slowly the words of the ever popular 80's rock ballad found their way to her disorientated mind.

 _I can't fight this feeling any longer_

 _And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow_

 _What started out as friendship has grown stronger_

 _I only wish I had the strength to let it show_

Blanche felt the tears rise, but pressed her lips shut tightly, and blinked rapidly to make them disappear. This was not at all what she was feeling, she tried to tell herself. There's nothing to show. She tried to focus – this was a date. She was in public. She'd ruin her make-up, the evening and make a fool of herself. But God did she feel miserable.

 _My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you_

 _I've been running round in circles in my mind_

 _And it always seems I'm following you girl_

 _'_ _Cause you take me to the places that alone I'd never find_

Don't think about it, don't think about it, Blanche internally yelled at herself, but it was no use. She couldn't not listen, not at this volume, and she couldn't run out either considering the tight grip Sam had on her and how offended he'd be. If she could just stop herself, keep control until this damn song ended, then have another drink or two until she could no longer think –

 _I can't fight this feeling anymore_

 _I've forgotten what I've started fighting for_

 _It's time to bring this ship into the shore_

 _And throw away the oars forever_

As Blanche felt the first tears roll down her cheek, the fight was over. She'd lost. She vaguely heard the last chorus in the background, but she felt she'd lost all control. She couldn't even suppress the sobs that shook her so much Sam finally noticed something was wrong and pushed her back. Through the blur of tears, she couldn't really see, but she heard his exclamation: "Blanche! What the – what is wrong?"

Shaking her head, Blanche lifted her hands to wipe off the tears, but she ended up hiding behind them, unable to stop all the locked up emotions from spilling out. Sam guided her off the dance floor, and put an arm around her.

"What's the matter, honey? Why are you crying?"

"I – I'm sorry," she managed to say, clearing her throat. "Can you – please can you just take me home? I need to go home."

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Alright."

On the way to his car, Blanche managed to calm down a little. The cool night air helped, and so did the silence. Inside, she hadn't even heard her sobs, but now she was painfully aware of how pathetic she sounded. In the car, she tried to take care of the worst with a few hankies, and gradually, her crying subsided.

"Mind telling me what's going on?" Sam asked, looking over.

Blanche shook her head. "I don't know."

"You've been acting strange all night, something must be the matter."

Avoiding his glance, Blanche looked out of the window. The lights of the city blurred, partly because of new tears, partly because the iced teas were kicking in.

"Alright, then don't tell me. That's just typical."

She didn't even reply to that, and tense silence filled the car. Blanche's mind wasn't quiet at all. The closer they got to home, the more nervous she felt. Finally, they turned into Richmond Drive, and stopped in front of the house.

"Thanks," Blanche said, and got out.

Sam followed her to the door. As Blanche got out her keys, he sighed.

"I'll call you tomorrow," he said before leaning in for a good night kiss.

Blanche pushed him away. "Good night."

With that, she left him, and finally got home. It wasn't very late, so she wasn't surprised to see Sophia in the living room, watching TV. Only as she got closer she noticed that the old lady had fallen asleep. Relieved, she sneaked past her. Without any detour, she approached Dorothy's door. Again, she felt like crying, but she took a deep breath and knocked softly. Her heart was beating so fast she was afraid she wouldn't hear anything over the noise it made. When there was no answer, she waited, then knocked again, less softly.

"Dorothy?" She hesitated. "Please let me in."

Still no answer. Suddenly, the door swung open and she stood in front of her. As they looked at each other, Blanche saw her friend's serious expression turn worried, and imagined her own probably looked the same. Dorothy's eyes were terribly red and puffy.

"What do you want?"

"I need to talk to you."

After a moment, Dorothy stepped back and let her in. Blanche closed the door behind herself and followed her. She saw the messy bed, where Dorothy must have been sitting, and to where she returned now. Insecurely, Blanche took a few steps towards her. Just where a few hours ago…

"I –" Under Dorothy's grave stare, Blanche struggled to find the right words. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Dorothy."

"For what?"

"Can I please sit down?"

Dorothy shrugged and pointed to the foot end of the bed. Blanche took a seat. From close up, Dorothy looked bad. Sad, tired, hurt. Blanche felt her heart contract painfully.

"I'm sorry for runnin' away like that," she said, not realizing that in the last minute she'd said sorry more times than in all the years they'd known each other. "That was cowardly."

Dorothy remained quiet, listening attentively. Blanche sighed, fiddling with her hands in her lap.

"I've been thinkin'. A lot. About all this. You, me, New Year's, all of it. I'm just so scared, Dorothy."

"Of what?"

"I don't know what's the matter with me. When I … when kissed you on New Year's, it was just a joke. I was just thinkin' about that silly custom. But… well, today I wasn't. Obviously. I'm sorry I made you cry."

"You cried, too."

"I know. I just kept thinkin' about it, and I felt so bad, I couldn't stay out."

"For kissing me?"

"No. For leavin' you like that. I kissed you … because I wanted to."

Dorothy's expression softened a little.

"I know my reaction back then was rather harsh," Blanche admitted, "but I haven't forgotten what you told me. And that's why I shouldn't have run away today. I know this must've hurt your feelings."

"So… you're saying that this time you wanted to?"

Blanche nodded. "I don't know what came over me. You were so sweet – you always are, really – and I just… gave in." She searchingly glanced at Dorothy, who was visibly moved. "This is so confusin' for me, Dorothy, I never _ever_ thought it would be possible for me to…"

"To what?" Dorothy asked softly.

Blanche took a deep breath, before saying quickly "To be attracted to you. Or any woman." She sighed. "But I guess that's what it is…"

"So you do feel something," Dorothy said, and it seemed a heavy burden had been lifted off her shoulders.

"Yeah, but I don't even know myself anymore, and it scares me, Dorothy, it scares me to death."

She felt the tears burn in her eyes again, as Dorothy carefully moved closer.

"Honey…" She softly placed her hand on Blanche's. "These things can be scary, believe me, I know. It took me years to come to terms with it. But it's not the end of the world, even though you were raised to believe that."

"I always thought it was horrible, you know, a sin – I didn't expect it to be so normal, so _good_. It doesn't feel wrong at all."

"That's because it's not wrong, darling."

"But I still feel like it must be. I want to be with you, but every time we get closer, it's… the fear just paralyzes me."

"Talk to me about it. We'll work it out."

"Just admittin' that I'm attracted to you… it's been half a year, and I can barely say it out loud. But I am. And if I think about what people would say..." Suddenly her eyes were brimming with tears again.

Dorothy carefully put an arm around her. "Don't. Since when do you care about people anyway?"

Blanche sniffled. "This is different. If you're with lots of men, it doesn't matter, you're still with men. Nobody really minds. But this… I'm just so confused."

"No need to rush, honey. I'm not going anywhere."

Blanche looked up into her best friend's warm brown eyes, and she felt a little smile push through.

"I can't believe I'm finally talkin' about it."

"I'm very glad you are. It's so much better to be open and honest about these things," Dorothy said, smiling warmly. "And I'm so glad I wasn't going crazy, imagining or just hoping you felt something, too."

Again, Blanche felt the butterflies in her stomach, and by now her resistance to that smile, that husky voice was low to non-existent.

"You are so… soft." She gently cupped Dorothy's cheek with her hand, and felt the shiver she caused. Excited by that reaction, Blanche leaned in and kissed her. Dorothy was surprised at first, but quickly adapted. Tilting her head slightly to the right, she kissed her back softly. But as Blanche became more passionate and tried to push her back on the bed, she withdrew, the taste of liquor lingering on her tongue.

"And you are drunk, sweetheart," Dorothy stated, to which Blanche just shrugged. "Let's continue this talk tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay."

Dorothy smiled at her as she let her go, and Blanche smiled right back at her.

"You know I really like you, Dorothy," she said, and would have loved to kiss her right again.

"I know, Blanche. And I adore you."

"Can't I just sleep here?"

Dorothy chuckled. "I don't know if that's such a good idea, honey. And you're bedroom's just next door, you know."

"Oh, right," Blanche said, softly shaking her head.

"You go get some sleep, sweetheart. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Alright." Clumsily, Blanche got on her feet. "Good night, sweet Dorothy."

"Good night, sweet belle," Dorothy replied and kissed her on the forehead.

That night, both their dreams were very pleasant, and when Blanche got up the next morning, she found Dorothy already in the kitchen.

"Oh, good mornin'!"

"Morning, Blanche! Did you sleep well?"

"Just perfect. What you're makin'?"

"Pancakes. I thought you might need something substantial."

"Thank you."

"Oh, it's no big deal, just sit down," Dorothy said as she served the first batch.

Blanche got her coffee first, then they sat down together.

"So are you looking forward to your first day at the museum?" Blanche asked, avoiding for the moment the topic both were itching to adress.

"Very much, it's a pretty rewarding summer job, nice place, easy tasks, great company…" She winked at her best friend, who smiled back.

"Maybe this year you can help organize the banquet. We've already booked the location, but there's still a lot to do."

"I'd love to."

When Sophia and Rose joined them, they chatted on about silly things, and it wasn't until they'd almost arrived at the museum, that Blanche dared to break the silence.

"About last night…" she said, hesitating, "I don't how to say this."

Dorothy looked scared and vulnerable, so she quickly added, "I'm not takin' anythin' back. It's just… Can we take it slow? Very slow?"

Dorothy took her hand and Blanche sighed at the comfort this gesture brought. "Of course, honey."

"I'm gonna need some time to think about this. To make sure. Because I am, but also I'm not. If to act on it, I mean."

"I understand," Dorothy said, carefully stroking the back of her best friend's hand with her thumb. "Take your time."

Blanche nodded, smiling, and after another moment, they got out of the car and to work.


	8. August

As if Miami weren't humid enough already, the hurricane season brought summer rains and thunderstorms. One of them was growling in the distance, while the girls drove to the venue where the annual museum banquet would be held. Blanche was driving, her best friend at her side. They hadn't really talked about their feelings for a while, she thought, but they were doing good, everything was going its usual way. Well, almost everything. Tonight was one of the biggest social events in her calendar, and Blanche Devereaux did not have a date. She'd dumped Sam weeks ago, and except for a few casual acquaintances, she'd kept an unusually low profile on the dating market.

Just as she'd done for the 4th of July picnic last month, she'd decided not to bring a guy for just the sake of it, and instead to spent the time with her best friends. They'd been like any other family in the afternoon, sitting in the park, eating, listening to the band, and one of Rose's silly stories about a picnic gone wrong after someone forgot to close the gate to the barnyard. At night, they'd come back for the fireworks, but this time it was just her and Dorothy, the dateless. They'd left extra early to get a good spot on the plateau behind the fountain rock, from where you could overlook the whole park and the city behind it. Leaning on the railing, they'd waited for the show to begin. After a while, Dorothy had approached the subject.

"How come you don't have a date tonight?"

Blanche had smiled. "I didn't find anyone who'd be better company than you."

"Really?" Dorothy had been visibly flattered.

"Also, now I kinda look at you with other eyes … well, actually I've been doin' that since New Year's, more or less… And I love fireworks, so this is really nice."

"You make it sound like a date."

For a moment, Blanche had been surprised, then she'd tilted her head. "It sorta is, isn't it?"

Night was falling around them, and more people were gathering in the park. When Blanche had looked around anxiously, Dorothy had leaned in.

"Don't worry. They're here for the fireworks, not for you." And after a second, she added, "Although I could understand if they were."

"Why, Dorothy!" Blanche had softly boxed her against the shoulder, and with their laughter the tension was all resolved.

They'd been so lost in their conversation that the first fireworks caught them by surprise. Blanche had exclaimed with joy, and in a reflex reaction, had grasped Dorothy's hand. The latter had wrapped her long fingers around it, and like that they'd looked up into the sky, where particles of light exploded and filled the night with burning stars.

Today, they weren't alone, it was raining, and it was not at all as intimate and comfy as then. It was a rather formal gathering, everyone from work was there, all dressed up and fancy. Blanche shone in the new dress she'd been saving for this since June, and as predicted, all eyes were on her as they entered the banquet hall. She looked to her side, where Dorothy was smiling rather smugly, not looking to bad either in her elegant creamy outfit. Together, they walked to their assigned table at the front left of the room, close to the little stage they'd carefully planned. Soon after they'd sat down, they were joined by the other girls and their respective dates, and it wasn't long until the evening officially began.

First, the director gave a little speech, summarizing the expositionsof the last year, praising the team and their work. He then made a toast, and the first course was served, while the band provided soft background music. Blanche later couldn't remember what they'd talked about, but she noticed Dorothy got more tense as the evening progressed, and when the last main dish had been served, it got so bad she put her hand on Dorothy's.

"Are you alright, honey? You seem awfully quiet."

Her best friend just smiled, shaking her head slightly. "It's alright."

"You sure you're not nervous about something?"

"What should I be nervous about?"

That was not really an answer, but Blanche found out soon enough. In between the last main course and dessert, Mr. Allan took to the stage again.

"I hope everyone has been enjoying their meal! Before we serve dessert, I would like to present another treat to you, ladies and gentlemen, a very special surprise, for a very special colleague. She's been working with us for seven years now, and organized the most successful exposition this season – Blanche Devereaux!"

As people applauded, Dorothy got up and before any of her confused roommates could say a word, she was up on the stage.

"And to thank her for her great contributions in all these years, and hoping there'll be many more to come, let's hear Dorothy Zbornak."

More applause. Blanche could feel the surprise was evident on her face, and she couldn't even clap, she only stared at her usually shy best friend on the stage.

Dorothy cleared her throat, and as the noise subsided, softly said, "Thank you." Her eyes briefly flew across the room, but rested when they found Blanche's.

"This song is for you, Blanche. From me, and the many other people who love you, thank you. You're the best friend, the best colleague we could wish for. That's why we'll be there always."

The pianist hit the first notes, and all of a sudden Dorothy's husky voice filled the room. Blanche was glad everybody's eyes were now on the woman on the stage, and no longer on her, as she couldn't help but be moved. Dorothy's voice was beautiful, unexpectedly strong and precise, as she hit all the right notes and left the whole room in awe.

 _Everything went wrong,_

 _And the whole day long_

 _I'd feel so blue._

 _For the longest while_

 _I'd forget to smile,_

 _Then I met you._

 _Now that my blue days have passed,_

 _Now that I've found you at last -_

To the others, the lyrics of the old Irving Berlin song might sound like nothing special, nice words to direct to a friend or colleague, but Blanche understood. Dorothy had taken this chance to woo her, and the way she looked at her as she sang, left no doubt.

 _I'll be loving you, oh always_

 _With a love that's true always_

Blanche smiled politely, acting normal, hoping nobody but her picked up on the deeper meaning, that was really so obvious it would hopefully go unnoticed.

When the song was over, the room exploded with applause, and Dorothy beamed as she received it. Then she got back to their table, where Blanche greeted her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"That was lovely, Dorothy!" Rose exclaimed as she sat down.

"Well done, pussycat."

"It was just a little song…"

"Oh, now don't sell yourself short! It really was amazing," Blanche said, and Dorothy accepted the praise with an honest smile.

"So this was what all the hushing at the office was about! You actually _were_ hiding something!"

"But nothing like you expected."

"Certainly not."

" I'm glad the surprise worked out this time."

Dessert came along, and the banquet ended with a charming impression and a sweet lingering taste of dark chocolate mousse.

Later that night, Dorothy found herself in bed, unable to sleep. Her head was running her ragged, and even though several hours had passed since her big moment, her nerves were unwilling to calm down. So after she'd tried for the better part of an hour to get some sleep, she decided to get up and look for some comfort in the fridge. But when she got to the kitchen, she was surprised to find Blanche already sitting there, lost in thought and a spoon of ice cream in her mouth.

"Having a second dessert?" Dorothy asked, as she crossed the room to get a spoon for herself.

"Oh, I couldn't sleep."

"Me neither. Can I have some of that?"

"Sure," Blanche said and pushed the ice cream box over to her. As Dorothy was savoring the first spoonful, she smiled.

"I didn't even get to properly thank you for tonight."

Dorothy looked at her questioningly. "But you did?"

"I said it was wonderful, but... I don't know if you know how much I really meant that. Because Dorothy, when you sing, you light up the room, you do, you positively glow, you just - you're beautiful."

"Blanche..."

"I mean it. And your voice - don't get me started on your voice."

Dorothy tried to come up with something sweet to say, and when she couldn't, she had some more ice cream.

"That was such a magnificent surprise, was it your idea?"

"Well, Mr Allen wanted something special in your honor, and when I suggested a song, he liked the idea and apparently he also liked me enough to let me on stage."

"You don't think anyone noticed?"

"I don't think so. That part was meant just for you."

Blanche reached out for the ice cream, and as as she carved out a spoonful, she placed her hand on Dorothy's, that was holding the box. They shared a long and longing glance, and Dorothy tried not to show how this little gesture affected her. Blanche had asked her for time and she'd grant it to her, she reminded herself.

"I would've loved to kiss you right there."

Dorothy blinked, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks. "You would?"

"If you were, you know, a man, I don't doubt for a second I would've. It was the most romantic thing anyone's done for me in a long, long time."

And before Dorothy could say anything, Blanche leaned over and kissed her gently. A little taken aback, Dorothy gave in, dropping her spoon as she allowed herself to get lost in the caress.

When Blanche withdrew, she smiled. "I'd hoped I'd be able to make up for it."

Dorothy exhaled slowly. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?"

"Truly and always?" Blanche smirked.

"Oh yes."

This time it was Dorothy who went ahead, and they were lucky their roommates were sleeping and didn't decide to get some late night snack as well, she thought later, lying in Blanche's bed, where they'd somehow ended up. In a tight embrace, they'd kept on kissing, softly, slowly, with hands roaming carefully, gently underneath the sheets. Now, they were just holding each other, Blanche's head resting on Dorothy's chest, and her petite figure in her best friend's strong arms, while the warm august rain drummed loudly on the roof.


	9. September

After spending most of the night snuggled up to Blanche, Dorothy snuck out early next morning, hoping their roommates had not and would not notice. As far as she knew, they didn't suspect a thing so far, and it would be better for everyone if it stayed that way for a while, while they were still figuring things out.

After grabbing a quick breakfast, she hurried off to work before Blanche even got up. Her new job was as demanding as she expected, and there was so much left to do before the students came back to school that she couldn't afford to be late. Schedules had to be planned, teachers briefed, classrooms organized, and not to mention all the bureaucracy that robbed her time and nerve. Nevertheless it was a challenge she enjoyed, it kept her busy during most hours of the day, and when she got home, she couldn't wait to head for the lanai with a new book to get some well-deserved rest. It was in one of those moments, in her third week on the job, that Sophia joined her in the evening sun.

"You know I'm a little disappointed in you, pussycat."

Dorothy looked up from her book.

"When were you thinking of telling me?"

"Telling you what, ma?"

If her mother's slightly smug expression was anything to go by, they'd been discovered. Dorothy knew they had been discrete, reserving their tenderness for the rare quiet moments behind closed doors, never staying too long, never overnight - they'd even tried to be less affectionate with their roommates around, but it seemed she just couldn't keep a secret from her mother.

"That little thing you have going on?"

"What are you talking about?"

Sophia was just about to say something when Blanche, coming home from work, stepped out on the lanai and greeted them cheerfully.

"Oh, hi girls!"

"Perfect timing."

"Ma!"

"What's goin' on?" Blanche asked, standing in front of them.

"I was just talking to Dorothy about the two of you."

Blanche turned pale. "The two of us?"

"Yeah, did you think I was blind and deaf?"

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," Blanche insisted.

"Spill it, Ma."

"I always suspected you didn't only like men, but can't you do better than Blanche?"

"Ma!" Dorothy was more upset about the condescending comment about her (girl?)friend than anything else, but when she looked up to Blanche, she found her face had turned the color of ash.

"Whatever are you insinuatin', old woman?"

"Want me to spell it out? Come on, the song at the banquet, the late night visits, all those tender looks - a blind guy would know you've got something going on."

Before Dorothy even had a chance to reply, Blanche had taken the word.

"You are wrong. There's nothin' goin' on between us, and I don't know how you got that crazy idea." Her words were cold, her lips firm in an attempt to appear strong. "Don't ever bring this up again, or I swear I will -"

But what she would do, she didn't say. After a second of silence, she turned around and left as fast as she could. Dorothy heard the front door slam shut, and felt misery rise in her chest.

"What was that?" Sophia asked, oblivious to her daughter's pain.

"If could just keep your mouth shut for one goddamn time!" Dorothy exclaimed.

"I saw you two kiss the other night."

Dorothy's head shot up. "What? When?"

"The other night, after the bingo tournament. I couldn't sleep, so I got up to get something to drink, and I saw a light out here. So I had a look and there you were, all tangled up."

Dorothy sighed. "Why didn't you talk to me before? Just me? You know how Blanche is!"

"I'm sorry," Sophia said, "I didn't expect her reaction to be so... Anyway..."

"What?"

"Is this serious?"

"I don't know, Ma. It was beginning to, but now..."

"I always suspected you liked women too," Sophia mused. "It's a shame you wasted your time with that yutz."

"So you're okay with it?"

Sophia shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be? Although, we both know Blanche. I hope she doesn't break your heart."

Dorothy stayed up all night, waiting in the living room, reading a few pages here and there but unable to really concentrate. She was beginning to worry, it was after midnight and Blanche still hadn't come home. She had no idea where she went, or with whom, and every minute on the couch seemed like an hour. Finally Dorothy head someone at the door, and her blood was flooded with relief as she saw the southern belle enter. Their eyes met, and Blanche froze.

"Hey," said Dorothy, "I was starting to worry about you."

"I went out."

"I saw that. Do you want some cheesecake?"

Blanche shook her head. But as she headed for her room, she gestured for Dorothy to follow her.

"You probably wanna talk," she said, as she took off her jewelry - first the bracelets, then the earrings.

"I do," Dorothy said. "I'm sorry about Ma. She didn't mean any harm."

Blanche shrugged, struggling to open her necklace. Dorothy stepped to her aid.

"Shall I?" Carefully she took the silver chain and with a few moves, opened the lock. Blanche let it fall into her hands and turned around.

"I'm sorry I panicked."

"You're not ready for anyone to know, are you?"

Blanche nodded. "I just wished I'd drop dead."

Dorothy lowered her glance, and couldn't help but wonder if that would ever change.

"I told her to keep her big mouth shut. Let's hope she does."

"I wish I were as strong as you, Dorothy - just bein' yourself, without worryin' about what people think..."

The substitute teacher shrugged. "For you, for being with you, I'd take on the whole world."

She observed Blanche bite her lip, putting aside the necklace she'd been holding.

"I'm sorry I'm not a better girlfriend," Blanche said, and immediately added, "Wow, I never thought I'd hear myself say that."

Dorothy put an arm on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it, honey. Take your time. I'm going to let you get changed and to bed, it's pretty late."

For a moment she thought Blanche would ask her to stay, but she just gave her a gentle peck on the lips and a smile.

September was coming to an end, and if the weather reports were right, it would be a rough one not only for Dorothy and Blanche. For the last few days, there'd been warnings about an approaching hurricane, which had already hit Haiti and Cuba devastatingly and was moving north, now threatening Florida's east coast rather seriously. The girls had already bought water, canned food and all the other necessities for cases like this, but when the storm got closer, they were surprised by its ferocity. The rain was hitting their house like the whip of an angry farmer would a horse's behind, the wind so sharp it seemed it would cut their cheeks. They'd thought they'd be able to stay home, but the storm only grew stronger, and soon the whole quarter was being evacuated. All TV channels broadcast updates continuously, and by now it was a category 5 storm.

"We need to get to the shelter!" Dorothy exclaimed, grabbing a bag of food supplies and blankets. "Ma, are you ready? Blanche?"

"Hurry up, girls", Rose yelled, standing beside Dorothy in the living room.

Soon Blanche appeared with another big bag under her arm, and at last Sophia came out of her room, wearing her red hurricane sweater and yellow rubber boots.

"I'm ready!"

"I can see that on your shirt," Dorothy commented. "Come on, we need to get to the car!"

"Did you shut all the doors and windows?" Blanche asked, looking around a last time.

"Of course I did," Rose said, "all the patio furniture is packed up, too."

"Then let's get going before we're trapped in here."

The girls headed for the garage, where they squeezed themselves and the numerous supplies into Blanche's little car. Slowly, she drove out on the street into the strong winds and rain. The closest shelter was a local TV studio only a few miles away, but they couldn't go very fast. With each passing minute, the tense silence in the car contrasted more strongly with nature's noises from outside. Wind was tearing at the palm trees, the rain mixed with the sea water whirling through the air, and everything in the city looked terribly dead.

They were advancing slowly through the deserted streets, only a few other cars around them, also directed to shelters, and a few last police vehicles on their round, making sure all neighbors were evacuated. When the girls arrived at the big grey cube that was the local TV studio, it was only two pm, despite the stormy darkness that was swallowing Miami.

Quickly, Blanche parked the car and the girls hurried to grab their bags and make their way to the entrance. Dorothy and her walked side by side, resisting the winds and rain, but when they got inside and dropped their belongings in a free corner, the southern belle gasped.

"What is it?" Dorothy asked, worried.

"I forgot to lock the car."

"You really think someone's gonna steal your old car in this weather?"

"I can't leave it open. I'll just go lock it real quick."

"I'm going with you," said Dorothy. "It would be irresponsible to go alone."

Blanche nodded, and after pulling tight the raincoats, they stepped outside again. The winds were blowing at more than a hundred miles for sure, and it was no easy task to cross the parking. The palm trees on the property and all around were swaying dangerously, and Dorothy yelled: "Hurry up!"

Blanche was nervous, and it took some fiddling to get the key to fit. She quickly turned it around once, twice, and put it in her pocket.

"Let's get inside, this wind is destroyin' my hair!"

"Not just that", Dorothy yelled back, and her glance was captivated by little pieces of what looked like wood or building material being whirled through the air like paper planes. She was just about to say something, when she heard a loud creaking noise, seconds later a shrill cry undoubtedly by Blanche, then everything turned black with a blow.

"Dorothy! Dorothy! Wake up!" It was Blanche, again. Dorothy felt hurt, and wet, and cold, and a soft hand was slapping her cheek. She blinked.

"Oh thank God!" Blanche exclaimed, and threw herself at her.

"Ouch…" Dorothy realized she was still lying on the cold cement of the parking, in the middle of a hurricane.

Blanche helped her sit up.

"Are you hurt? We need to get inside _right fuckin' now,_ " she yelled against the noise.

"Give me a hand", Dorothy said, and with Blanche's help, she pulled herself up. Beside her, she now saw a fallen palm tree that had smashed Blanche's little blue car right where they'd been standing. Before she could wrap her head around it all, Blanche was dragging her towards the shelter. They got there wet and panting, and Dorothy was glad Blanche pushed her directly to a free camp bed and made her lie down after taking off the raincoat.

In the bright light Dorothy saw that the wetness on her love's face was not just rain, her cute little nose was all red and she was still in tears. For a few seconds, they just looked at each other, forgetting all the people around them, all the noise and disaster, and Blanche squeezed her hand hard.

"Pussycat, what happened? Why were you out so long?"

"Are you hurt?"

Rose and Sophia had come running to their side, both equally worried.

"It's nothing, I'm fine", she answered, waving it off.

"It's not fine!" Blanche sobbed, and turned her face to the two other girls. "A palm tree fell on the car, and it almost smashed her!"

"On _your_ car?!"

"Who cares about the damn car, Rose!" Blanche exclaimed, "Dorothy could've died!"

"But thank goodness you were there to save me." Dorothy smiled, and when Blanche did the same, a few tears spilled over.

Sophia gave Rose a nudge. "Come on, Rose, let's go try the cookies."

"But you had a whole plate al-"

"Come on!" And off she dragged her roommate to the coffee and cookies table, giving the other two a bit of privacy.

"Don't cry, honey."

"I could've lost you," Blanche whispered, "right there, just like that, in a second."

"But you didn't."

"Still…"

In the background, the radio was keeping everyone up to date about a flooding in the seaside parts of Dade County, and all the other damages that were being recorded throughout the city. While most people were nervously listening, eating candy and drinking coffee, Blanche kept sitting by Dorothy's side and refused to let go of her as the afternoon went on.

"Are you sure you don't wanna see a doctor?"

"Absolutely. It's nothing, really – just a little bruise from the fall."

Dorothy sat up in the tiny, not too comfortable camp bed, and leaned in closer to Blanche.

"We're safe now," she said, and with a little smile, she added, "You might wanna let go of my hand, people might talk."

"I don't care," Blanche replied. "Let'em talk all they want."

Later, they joined the other girls, who were sitting with Stan and Angelo, for coffee and snacks, and if it weren't for the radio and TV announcements in the background, it might've seemed just a fun little camping adventure. But they were constantly reminded of the danger that still loomed over them, and their very home. Who knew what would remain of it once the storm had moved on?

Blanche stayed close to Dorothy all day, watching over every move she made, and when it became clear they'd have to spend the night, she moved her bed right next to Dorothy's. They tried to fall asleep, but with the nerves, the lack of privacy and the uncomfortable camp beds, Dorothy couldn't manage to find rest. She finally resigned and grabbed a book from her bag. As she lay back down to read, she found Blanche looking at her with a sleepy face.

"Can't sleep?"

Dorothy nodded. "I could really use a cheesecake now."

"I'm worried about the house."

"We locked it all up well, it won't be that bad."

"We'll see tomorrow."

"Try to sleep now, honey," whispered Dorothy, as she reached for Blanche's shoulder. She was taken aback when the slightly disheveled belle leaned in and kissed her – it was darker now, but they were still in a huge hall with probably hundreds of people around them.

"Good night," Blanche said, and in a whisper, she added, "I love you."

Dorothy was so taken aback that it took a few seconds before she replied.

"And I love you, sweetheart."

Blanche snuggled into her camp bed, not taking her eyes off Dorothy.

"You go ahead and read, bookworm," she said, and gently stroke over her best friend's head, before closing her eyes.

Dorothy was up for a long time, but she didn't get much reading done. When she finally lay down, she looked at her sleeping love, and it didn't take long until sleep found her.

The next morning, the storm had moved on north, and the whole town was busy assessing the damage and starting to rebuild. The girls woke up early, had a last coffee at the shelter, and after a call to the insurance, got a ride home with Stan, as Blanche's car was no longer of any use. Fortunately, Richmond Street was not close to the beach, so their home hadn't been flooded, and except for a few superficial damages and a broken window, everything looked fine.

"Thank goodness!" Blanche sighed, standing in the middle of the living room. Dorothy was already sweeping away the pieces of glass from the shattered window.

"Careful, don't step on any glass."

"I'm so glad everythin' is okay now," she said, and disregarding Dorothy's warning, she stepped closer and hugged her. Within a second, the broom was on the floor, and Dorothy's arms were wrapped tightly around the shorter woman.

"So am I."

When Blanche withdrew, there was a big smile on her face. "Tonight there'll be cheesecake."

"After we clean up this mess of a house."

"Together."

"Anything's more fun with you," Dorothy said, and this time she was only a little surprised to feel Blanche's soft lips on hers. Gently, she responded, holding her tight as if there was still a storm to protect her from.

"Oh, I see you two have made up!" said Sophia, who had just appeared from the kitchen with a very wide-eyed Rose.

Blanche and Dorothy shot around, but remained in each other's arms.

"Yes, we did," said Blanche, proudly, and looked right at Sophia and Rose. "Any problem with that?"

"I knew it!" Rose exclaimed, "But boy did you take your time!"

"I'm going to make lasagna to celebrate – my pussycat finally has a love life!" Sophia rejoiced and rushed right back to the kitchen.

"I'm gonna…eh… unpack my bag then," said Rose, and disappeared, too.

Dorothy turned to look at Blanche, still trying to process what had just happened.

"So you… you're ok with this? With me?"

Blanche nodded. "I only have this one life, and if there's one thing I learned yesterday, it's that I don't wanna live it without you. I do love you, and that's all that matters."

Dorothy tried to blink away the moistness that rose in her eyes.

"Oh now don't cry, darlin' – we got a lot of work to do around here," Blanche said, winking, before giving her another kiss.

"Let's get going, then."


	10. October

October

In the aftermath of the storm, Miami returned to its old self, but things in the girls' home started to change. More often than not, one of the bedrooms remained empty during the night, and the stream of Blanche's suitors that had been steadily decreasing, now disappeared completely. It had taken her a while, too long maybe, but she was finally feeling good about herself and her feelings. She was actually happy for the first time in a while, and it showed. And Dorothy, well, she was still grumpy sometimes, especially in the morning before she had her coffee, but overall, she too was a lot more positive – so much so that not even her new job could stress her. It had practically turned into a fulltime position, with all the extra hours and events to attend, and Blanche often missed her in the mornings and early afternoons, on the days she herself was off, but eventually every night they'd be together, pouring their hearts out about anything on their minds, and everything was good.

Whenever Blanche felt apprehensive, whenever she had to explain why she wasn't out with guys anymore, and courage threatened to leave her, she remembered the day of the hurricane and the promise she'd made to both herself and Dorothy. She took a deep breath, shrugged and with a tilt of her head said that she was no longer looking for anything, for she'd found it. When people insisted, and their eyes widened in surprise as she said who exactly it was she was seeing, the judgmental looks of some people still brought up that heavy feeling in her gut, but she tried to shrug it off. People like that were not worth dealing with, and she didn't need their approval. Blanche Devereaux had always done as she pleased, and always would.

Dorothy seemed rather proud anytime she could point out that the beautiful woman on her arm was actually more than her friend, and she had a great comeback for every closeminded comment, including Stanley's. He'd come over, being the usual pain in the butt, with some new scheme to try and get Dorothy to go out with him, and when she'd told him she was going out with Blanche, he didn't get it at first.

"You can't compare that, I am inviting you to a romantic candle light dinner at the Hilton."

"Because your business partner's paying for it?"

"No, well, yes, but that's not the point-"

"Stan, I don't think you got my drift. When I said I was going out with Blanche, I meant it."

"What?"

"Romantically."

Stanley's facial expression froze solid for a moment. "But you're a woman, she's a woman…"

"Thanks for pointing that out, I'd be lost without you."

"You're kidding, right?"

"I'm not. We're together and you better get used to it. Or better, don't, and get lost."

For a while, he'd indeed left her alone, but she was afraid sooner or later he'd get lonely, and try to get back into her life, scrounge some food or just go on their nerves.

In the middle of October, Dorothy's son Michael announced his visit to celebrate little Nina's first birthday. While Dorothy was looking forward to seeing her granddaughter and son, she couldn't help but worry about how he'd take the news. So the night after she'd received his phone call, she sat up late in the kitchen. At some point, Blanche got tired of waiting for her and found her with her head in the freezer.

"Honey, what are you doing?"

Dorothy closed the door with a sigh and turned around. "Nothing."

"I have a feelin' we might need some cheesecake."

"I don't feel like it…."

Blanche stepped to her side and lay an arm around her shoulder. "What's the matter, Dorothy? Is this about Michael?"

She nodded.

"Sit down, honey, I'm gonna get some ice cream."

Dorothy didn't object and took a seat at the counter, dangling her long legs and resting her chin in her palms. Blanche quickly joined her with some double fudge chocolate ice cream.

"This'll make ya feel better," she said, and scooped an extra big portion into her best friend's bowl.

"It's worth a try," Dorothy said, and took a spoonful.

"Tell me what's got you so upset you left me waitin' forever in that cold lonely bed."

"I haven't told any of my kids, or family, about this, I mean about us… I'm so nervous. We won't be able to keep it from him."

"We could, you know, if that's what you wanted."

Dorothy thought about it for a few spoons of the heavenly sweet, but then shook her head. "No, that's not what I want. I just hope they take it well."

"I know it might be unexpected news, but remember what they've been through, you know, with the age difference, the racial issues…"

"I know I raised my kids to be sensible, open-minded people, I shouldn't be so worried…"

"Try not to worry, honey, it's no good. It'll be what it'll be, and I'm pretty sure it'll be fine. Michael's a good kid. He of all people would understand. Remember he once quit a job because they wanted him to wear a tie? I don't think he'll be very uptight about this."

"You're probably right… Thanks, darling," Dorothy said, and reached out for Blanche's hand. The southern belle smiled, first at her, then at the almost empty ice cream box.

"What do you say, now that you're feeling better, shall we have the rest with some whipped cream?"

"The one you keep-"

"Exactly."

With a slight blush, Dorothy accepted, and giggling with excitement, they disappeared into Blanche's bedroom.

When Michael and his little family finally stepped through the girls' door, Dorothy wasn't half as worried as before. The second she saw the little girl in his arms, that was all she could think about.

"Oh my goodness is she adorable!"

"Hi Ma."

"Hello Michael, Lorraine… please sit down! Did you have a nice trip?"

"Oh it was fine," Lorraine said, "if only he hadn't insisted on playing the same tape for five hours straight…"

"It helped Nina fall asleep!"

"Speaking of which… you wanna hold her?" Lorraine offered, and Michael quickly handed her the baby.

She was a gorgeous little thing, with huge brown eyes and tiny fingers reaching for everything. Her skin color was a blend of her parents', but the curly hair she'd got from her mother. They'd told Dorothy that being musicians, they'd named her after the famous singer Nina Simone. The little girl smiled at Dorothy, who could feel her heart melt. To think that she'd have almost missed out on being a part of this because of some silly reservations she'd had…

Over lunch, they talked about their professional lives, and everyone was glad to hear how well the band was going and that maybe they'd soon get a big contract. Everything went fine, until over dessert the sleeping arrangement came up.

"It was really nice of you to give up your room for us," Lorraine said.

"We hope it's not too much trouble, grandma," added Michael.

"What you're looking at me for?" Sophia said, "I'm not bunking with Dorothy."

" _I_ am," Blanche declared, giving Dorothy a subtle push.

"And don't worry, it's no big deal, they sleep together most nights."

Dorothy shot her mother a deathly glance, but Michael and Lorraine looked a little confused.

"Well, yes, it's true what Ma says…" She took a deep breath. "We're together. In a couple way."

"You and Blanche?" Michael looked taken aback.

"Yes. I know it might come a little unexpected, but… we've been going out for a few weeks."

"Well… congratulations, I don't know what else to say… Were you worried I was going to freak out?"

"A little," Dorothy admitted.

"Come on, Ma, give me a little credit! I never knew you liked women, but she's your best friend, that's awesome."

"You sure look very happy together," Lorraine said, smiling.

"Almost as sweet as the tiramisù," Rose said, and brought the attention back to the delicious food Sophia had prepared.

After a long afternoon in the park and a quiet dinner at home, Dorothy and Blanche found themselves out on the lanai in the warm evening air, under the same sky they'd gazed at months ago. Some of the stars had moved, new ones had appeared, while other ones were gone. This time, the two sat closer together, and held hands as they observed the stars.

"It went quite well, don'tcha think?"

"Surprisingly so."

Dorothy looked over to find Blanche smiling at her.

"They were adorable, and so were you."

Blanche leaned over. "I know. I like this, you and me as a couple. Even though we'll probably have to keep explainin' for a while, it makes me proud."

"We've come pretty far these last few months…"

"I can't wait to see how much further we'll go – together."

And as Blanche leaned in to kiss her, Dorothy closed her eyes in anticipation, feeling like all she'd had to go through in the last fifty-six years, every little pain and humiliation, had been worth it to get to this exact moment.


	11. November

November

The month in which the bigger part of the US started to experience the transition from autumn to winter, with the first cold and maybe even the first snow, Miami was comfortably warm. In fact, the first days of November were so sunny that Dorothy decided to take Blanche out for something special. She knew the belle hated to be reminded of her advancing years, and none of them felt like a big party anyway. They'd gone to concerts or shows together throughout the year, and even though the South Chamber Art Festival was always a highlight for both of them, it was not quite what she had in mind for this occasion.

The third of November was a Saturday, which meant that Dorothy was off work, and Blanche had made sure she didn't have to work either. In the morning, she'd left early for her aerobics class, giving sleepy Dorothy a quick goodbye kiss and a few sweet nothings. A little later, she got up and had breakfast with Rose and Sophia, who didn't hesitate to pry.

"So, pussycat, any special plans for today?"

"You mean for Blanche's birthday?"

"No, Rose, I mean for national noodle day!" Sophia snapped. "Of course for her birthday!"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I'm going to take her to the beach for a romantic afternoon."

"I'm so glad you two finally got together," Rose mused. "It was about time you stopped pining and moping around."

"So am I. It's everything I ever dreamed of."

"You have fun, pussycat. I'm volunteering at the hospital later, maybe Angela'll come over for dinner."

"Oh, that would be lovely! Will you be making one of your Italian delicacies?"

"Probably. Will you two be home for dinner?" Sophia asked Dorothy, as she finished her coffee.

"I don't know, but if you'll be cooking, I'll see that we are. I'm sure Blanche wouldn't mind a little festive birthday dinner, even if it is the day she gets another year older."

"We'll just pretend she's turning 50 again," Sophia said, and winked. "That way she won't get upset."

"Just don't push the issue, Ma. You know how sensitive she can be."

"I know, I know… "

Dorothy ate the last bite of her toast, and soon after she'd emptied her coffee cup, she put her dishes away. Ever the diligent worker, she got started right away on her surprise picnic. She hadn't told Blanche anything except that she'd prepare a little something special for the day. Now she seized the opportunity while her lover was out getting fit at the gym and prepared her little picnic basket. She cut lots of melon, strawberry and other seasonal fruit, put together a few light sandwiches and finally even baked a little cake. By the time she started on that, Rose had left for her weekend news job, and Sophia decided she had something more interesting to do around the house than keep her daughter company. Dorothy didn't complain, actually she was glad to be able to focus on her task, letting her mind wander free while her hands mixed the cocoa, sugar, eggs, flour and butter. She filled a little heart-shaped form with the base, which she topped with a cream made of raspberries and cream cheese. She smiled as she put it in the oven, and even surprised herself whistling as she prepared the frosting, a red raspberry sugarcoat that would top the dessert off perfectly.

Quickly, she cleaned up the mess she'd made, and while the cake cooled off, she got dressed. Looking at herself in the mirror, she smiled. Before noon, she'd hidden the cake with the rest of the basket, blankets and other stuff in her car. There, in the relatively cool garage, it was safe from curious eyes.

"I really hope this is not a party," Blanche said, as she rode alongside Dorothy through downtown Miami.

"I know you don't want to be reminded of the ever-growing number, don't worry."

Blanche nodded, relieved. "So, just the two of us?"

"Just the two of us. I hope."

"You hope?"

"Uh-uh. Don't be nosy. You'll find out soon enough."

They passed through the city center and took the highway up north. After about half an hour, the houses became more separated as Fort Lauderdale dissolved into suburbs and little coastal settlements.

"It's been ages since I've been out here – you can practically feel the noise and stress disappear."

"It's worth the trip, right? Just wait another few minutes."

Dorothy steered the car off the highway, down a few streets through a few solitary rows of houses and closer to the coast. She saw Blanches smile from the corner of her eye as soon as she realized they were heading for the beach.

It was a small and rather deserted place, a few lonely boats and a lot of palm trees were their only company as they set their nude feet on the soft white sand. Blanche giggled as she took Dorothy's hand in hers, and together they stumbled towards the ocean.

"I love this!" Blanche exclaimed, admiring their surroundings.

Dorothy spread out the blanket right where they'd stopped, and set down the basket in the middle. It felt great to kick off her shoes, and as she watched Blanche do the same and sit down beside her, she felt her heart beat loud and fast and happy.

The southern belle smiled at her. "This really is lovely. It's so calm out here, so much nicer than the beaches in Miami."

"I'm glad you like it. Happy birthday," Dorothy whispered, before leaning in and gently kissing her.

Later, after they'd slowly but steadily eaten up all the fruit, gone for a walk and dipped their legs in the softly roaring waves of cool blue, they were just lying on their backs, holding hands and shoulders touching, watching the little clouds float by across the slowly paling sky.

"This one looks like a cat," Dorothy said, pointing to the right.

"Oh no, it's losin' its ears… Now it looks just like a driftin' blowfish."

Dorothy giggled, and promptly Blanche joined her. Like some silly teenagers, they lay there, forgetting the world and all its worries, just as long as they were together, hearing the sea, the breeze in the palm trees and the voice of their beloved. Gradually the sky started to change color, the clear cobalt blue fading into pink as the sun sank lower. Before it got too dark, Dorothy stroke her best friend's cheek with the back of her hand.

"There's one last surprise I have for you…" she announced softly, suggestively raising an eyebrow.

"Oh really?" Blanche smiled. "Whateva might that be?"

"It's over there at the bottom of the basket…"

Blanche looked at her curiously, apparently wondering how naughty good-old Dorothy might have become. Then she reached over, and lifted the little cooler box.

"Go ahead, open it."

She did, and as she lifted the cover, her face started to beam with joy. "A cake?"

"Wait," Dorothy said and made some space. "Put it here."

Blanche put the little heart in front of them, still smiling openly. "It is so cute! Did you make this all by yourself?"

Dorothy nodded. "From scratch. And, obviously, with lots of love."

"Oh, honey, this is so sweet… I don't even wanna cut it."

Dorothy handed her the knife she'd brought. "Wanna do it together?"

Blanche laughed. "This ain't a weddin' cake!"

Dorothy shrugged, and Blanche did as she'd suggested. Her hand held on to Dorothy's and pushed the knife down.

"Oh my, it's a cheesecake too!" Blanche exclaimed.

"I couldn't think of anything that'd fit us better."

"I love it," Blanche said as Dorothy handed her her piece on a little plate. "Thank you so much for all of this, it's so beautiful. A sunset picnic on a deserted beach… you really _are_ such a romantic!"

"Anything for you, honey."

Blanche loved the cake, and they ate almost all of it as they watched the sun go down on the horizon in front of them. The last light sparkled on the waves like drops of gold, and a light breeze whirled around the unusually warm November air. Dorothy had laid an arm around Blanche's shoulders, and the belle had let her pretty head drop to rest on her shoulder. For a while, they sat silently as night fell around them. At six, the sunlight was still glowing from behind the horizon, illuminating the sky in soft colors, but all the way up the first stars started to appear.

"Doesn't this remind you of somethin'?" Blanche asked softly.

"It's almost exactly what I talked about, the last time we looked at the stars together like this…"

"Except we're not far enough away from civilization to see them all."

"I actually don't mind that much."

"Me neither," Blanche said, and snuggled up closer to Dorothy. "This is perfect."

After all they did make it home for dinner, late, but still in time to get some of Sophia and Angela's lasagna. They just had a little, their bellies still full of cheesecake, but it was simply too good to pass up on. The rest of the family wished her a very happy birthday, but other than that, it was a really normal night – Sophia and Angela went out for bingo and later drinks at Wolfie's, Rose went to a concert with Miles, so that Dorothy and Blanche ended up having the house all for themselves. They watched some news on TV, but soon got distracted. It was so much more fun to make out in the middle of the living room. So they ended the special day the same way they'd begun it – with lots of tenderness.

Later, as they were resting under the covers, holding each other tight, Blanche smiled and turned to look at Dorothy.

"That was the best birthday I've had in a long time."

"Really? Even better than the pool party last year?"

"Even better than that." Softly, Blanche put a fallen grey curl behind her lover's ear. "Thanks to you, darlin'."

Dorothy placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "I love you."

Hardly moving back, Blanche kept looking at her, her bright blue orbs sparkling with joy.

"So much," Dorothy added, trying to blink the happy tears away that were forming in her eyes.

"And I love ya too, silly," Blanche whispered, before kissing her again.

"I can't wait to stroll around the art fair by your side tomorrow."

"I guess we do make a cute couple."

"The cutest."

Blanche contently snuggled closer to Dorothy, and soon her breathing slowed as she fell asleep. Dorothy listened to the soft sighs, felt them as they brushed against her lower neck, and let them rock her to sleep too. It had been a good day indeed.


	12. December

**December**

After Blanche's birthday, the last weeks of the year practically flew by. For thanksgiving, her younger brother Clayton had announced his visit. At first, Blanche seemed a little nervous about it, but Dorothy calmed her. Together, they practiced baking pecan pie and talked it through. Dorothy was sure everything would turn out fine, but Blanche remained slightly anxious – after all, she had been very vocal against her brother's coming out and his new relationship.

When the day finally came, and they all sat down for the big dinner, things went a lot more smoothly. After talking about his honeymoon and domestic bliss with Doug, Clayton asked, "So, how's your social life? Dated any eligible men lately?"

After a short silence, Blanche looked over to Dorothy, then back to her brother, and said, "Well, actually no, I haven't. I haven't dated any guys for a while now, because… well. I … I'm with Dorothy."

His eyes widened in surprise, and he'd have almost dropped his fork. "You are?"

"She is," Dorothy said, "It's been almost half a year."

Clayton smiled broadly at them both. "I can't believe it! Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know _how_ ," Blanche admitted. "After all those ugly things I said to you."

"It's true I didn't exactly expect this, but dear, it's often the most outspoken homophobes that are secretly afraid of their own feelings. Maybe you were, too. Anyway, I am so happy for you! You two were _made_ for each other."

After that, it was back to turkey and caramel cake, and it was the calm, peaceful holiday they'd wished for, and on which they were thankful for, among other things, their loving family.

In early December, Rose had already booked her flight back home to Minnesota, and urged the girls to do the same.

"If you don't get your tickets soon, they'll end up costing you a fortune."

"I know, I know," Dorothy sighed. "I just can't make my mind up about it."

"What do you mean?" Sophia had entered, and regarded her daughter critically. "I thought we'd go to Brooklyn, like we do every year?"

"I just feel like staying here for a change."

"We talked about it, and we both feel like spendin' the holidays here, together," Blanche chipped in.

"I'm sure Gloria'll be happy to have you," Dorothy said.

"Yeah, that's right, just put me away to California so you two lovebirds have the place to yourself…"

"Would you rather stay with Phil in a caravan?"

"I'm calling Gloria right now," Sophia said, and hurried to the phone.

Blanche turned to Dorothy. "So this is it? We're stayin'?"

Dorothy nodded. "It'll be lovely."

"All that time just for ourselves…" Blanche winked.

"I told you I'm not gonna wear a santa suit."

"Not even if I'm a really good girl?"

"No," she replied firmly, but Blanche's puppy eyes managed to break the mask and she giggled.

Their holidays were quiet, without even so much as a hint of snow or cold, but they didn't mind. They went to the beach, helped out at the shelter, sat on the lanai, or just watched TV sharing a slice of their homemade Mississippi mud pie.

"Oh, this cake's a _sin,_ it is so _good_ ," Blanche sighed, leaning back on the sofa.

"I don't know, it's too heavy for me I think. Why do you southerners always overdo it?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"In New York, at least you can go ice skate to burn off some of it – but here?"

"We could always go to the beach," Blanche said. "But tell me more about Christmas up north."

Dorothy leaned back, too, sinking into Blanche's loving embrace. "Oh, it was usually very cold, but that didn't matter. The whole city was sparkling with lights, you just had to go out and see it. There were Santas on every corner, all the store windows full of decadent decorations, people hurrying across the streets, catching cabs, a light snow falling down from the dark sky… oh, and the huge Christmas Tree at Rockefeller Center, almost as high as the skyscrapers… we would go ice skating right there, under the colorful lights of the tree, until our noses were red and our hands cold. But we always went home with a smile on our faces, and maybe a patch on the knee."

Blanche sighed. "That sounds wonderful. I'd love to see that someday."

"I'd love to take you."

"Maybe next year?"

Dorothy turned her head in surprise. "Really? You'd really wanna go?"

"Of course. You'll just have to teach me how to skate on ice."

"I can do that."

"And catch me if I fall."

"Do you know how much I love you?"

Blanche giggled. "You tell me all the time, darlin'."

"I know, but do you understand? I love you so much my heart feels like it's gonna burst."

"I love you too, Dorothy Zbornak," Blanche said, and leaned over to kiss her, first playfully, then passionately.

On the 31st of December, Dorothy put on the elegant cream dress she'd bought with Blanche a few months ago. The southern belle had insisted on going out that night, but wouldn't tell her where, only that it would be fabulous. Dorothy had tried to talk her out of it, but she hadn't stood a chance – once Blanche had her mind set on something, it was a waste of time to try and change her mind. So here she was, getting all dolled up, without knowing what for.

"Dorothy, are you ready?" Blanche asked, looking in from the hall. "Oh my, you look gorgeous!"

"Should I wear the chain or the pearls?"

Blanche stepped closer and took a look. "Pearls."

As Dorothy put them on, she smiled at Blanche. "You're not looking so bad either."

Blanche raised her eyebrows critically. "This took me almost two hours. You better be kiddin'."

"Of course I am. Like I always say: No woman ever looked better than you look right now, and no one ever will."

The southern belle laughed, playing down how much she really needed to hear such things.

"I see you put on your new favorite dress. Not afraid people might recognize it from the banquet?" Dorothy asked.

"Nah, and even if, I don't care. Like you said, it's special. And where we're goin' – ah ah, I'm not sayin' anythin' more. Are you ready to go?"

"It's only five thirty – where the heck are you taking me?"

"Just trust me. And don't forget your lipstick," Blanche said and pushed it into her hand before dragging her out the door.

Happily, she drove clueless Dorothy through downtown Miami, up north past Miami Beach, before taking the last right turn.

"Bal Harbour?" Dorothy asked, surprised. That was one of the most exclusive parts of town, made up of three little islands just north of Miami Beach.

"I told you it would be worth it. We're almost there."

As they parked in front of the huge, impressively modern and luxurious Ritz Carlton, Dorothy could hardly believe her eyes. But Blanche led her confidently through the spacious lobby, past dark wooden furniture and into a big, bright dining room. They had a little table next to the window looking over the pool, and behind that the sea. The sun was only setting, and the early dinner deserved its name. It was three – most certainly delicious – courses, and afterwards the bar opened. They each got a cocktail, taking it slow and just standing around talking.

"How on earth did you get your hands on tickets for this? Did you take on a second job?"

"Oh no, I just know the assistant manager."

"You _know_ him?" Dorothy critically raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I went out with him for a very short period of time. He was crazy about me, but my heart wasn't in it."

"I see."

"Why, are you bein' jealous?"

Dorothy shook her head, but it wasn't very convincing.

"It was more than a year ago," Blanche said and demonstratively took her lover's hand. "I'm here with you. I called him up to spend this special night here with _you_."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, darlin'," Blanche said softly, holding on tight to her hand. "Let's go check out the patio, those beds look very comfy."

The hours passed quickly, between hanging out at the bar, enjoying the entertainment, a DJ and another four-course late dinner. It was almost eleven pm when they took the elevator all the way to the 27th floor. Up there on the roof, there was another bar with a stunning outside area, a little pond surrounded by candles and loungers, where they stood as midnight approached, talking over the music that streamed through the open doors. It was getting a little too crowded for Dorothy's liking, but as Blanche came back with another drink, she didn't mind. She downed the delicious piña colada a little faster than she probably should've, enjoying the relaxing effect it had on her. With Blanche by her side, she leaned on the glass railing, contemplating the ocean ahead and the sparkling stars above it.

"It's a wonderful night for fireworks," she mused.

"They've always been my favorite part."

"Really? I thought that would be …you know, the kiss."

Blanche smiled. "That too."

In the background, people were dancing as waiters gathered around with trays of champagne.

"Looks like midnight's approaching," Dorothy said, turning back around to face the open sea. "Another year gone by."

"Just _another_ year? Are you kiddin' me?"

"Who knew your silly 'setting the tone' thing would actually work… And look how far we've come, all fancy, dancing and sipping cocktails at the Ritz…"

"Oh, here comes the next round," Blanche remarked, just as the waiter was stepping to their side, offering them a glass of Moet Chandon.

In the background, the music slowly faded, and the big clock announced that only a minute was left of the old year.

Dorothy took a deep breath, holding on tight to her glass. Her tense mind found refuge in Blanche's gentle smile.

"Shall we do the countdown, too?"

Dorothy nodded. "Just know that this has probably been the happiest year of my life."

"You too make me happy, Dorothy. I've never been more glad about somethin' stupid I did on New Year's. Or ever."

Everybody's chanting of 'ten, nine, eight' shook them out of their trance, and smiling, they joined the voices.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

As the crowd cheered, the bells rang and the first fireworks illuminated Miami's nocturne sky, they kissed.

This would be a good year.


End file.
